


I Have Little to Offer but I’ll Offer You My All

by MinaMauveine



Series: There Are Always Constants [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Dreams and Nightmares, F/F, Fantasy, Gore, Knotting, Mating Bites, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Polyamory, Slow Burn, So just tw for everything fighting related if you're sqeamish, So much lore is going to happen, Violence, Werewolf Lore, Werewolves, my writing gets pretty descriptive and I'm not pulling any punches, please strap in, seatbelts!, vicera, welcome to the ride you guys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-05-30 04:07:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 50,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6408112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MinaMauveine/pseuds/MinaMauveine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their species history were mythos and legend spun, but space and Ark has repressed once prized attributes. The 100 find Earth neither an Eden or the death sentence envisioned. Their wolves might be returning but they will find themselves fighting tooth and claw for survival.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1: The Chase

**Author's Note:**

> This was the furthest they’ve ever been from the moon but its sway was never greater.

The unfamiliar pain strikes at them as soon as they stumble onto the soft wet sands. The sun sets and the moon draws a longing from their bodies. As waves upon shores, the craving sparks in their nerves and vibrates down to their sinews and marrow. There’s a tension making everything in the 100’s bodies harden, the natural breaking point would be reach one way or another.

 

It’s Clarke that strips first, kicking off her boots and almost shredding her jacket, shirt and pants; she moans, letting the moon’s yellowed glow lick across her bare skin which sends her to her knees. She’s shaking, trembling but she needs to go, she needs to surrender to this or end.

 

Her fingers spasms against the yielding sands, digging again and again for a grip as she sways side to side. It’s growing pains, it’s life, their lineage and heritage coming into play. Clarke moves, auto pilot until she can lean her forehead onto the cool grass on the outskirts of the shore. She breathes the scents around her. She fills up with air that isn’t recycled and heavy with sedatives, she’s never felt so overwhelmed, so taken by the mere idea of being one with the forest. She needs it. She needs to… her spine cracks and her shoulders crunch with a snap that brings the rest of the 100’s eyes onto her. When she cries out its in euphoria instead of pain. She takes quivering steps forward, each mincing movement stretching her limbs into her quadrupedal form. She’s reaching for the other, for the thing so drugged her whole life that the dull ache in finding it leaves her yearning for more. Her skin itches as fur creeps along her spine, rolling down her ribs then spreading, her golden tresses paling to platinum metal in mere moments.  
  
She shakes her whole body as if her fur was wet, it helps the rest of her shift come into form, she needs to run to be free but the thought of the others keeps her. She turns to them. Seeing some still crying out in pain, some curled so tight against one another in the safety of their dropships’ shadows instead of being in the moon’s glow.

 

She paces back to them careful to stay far from Wells but nudging her wet nose into the next closes person in pain. Octavia had been the first released and the 100 watched her immediate dropped to her knees as the ending day strings up the moon. The rest were quick to follow in the girl’s motion, leaving the exodus ship only to fall to the ground moments after.

 

Clarke emits a low whine as she nudges the younger girl’s shoulder, licking at the girl’s nape. She does this for several lying prone around her until she makes it to Bellamy, walking around him hoping to offer some aid by her presence.

 

Bellamy is twitching, having watched one of their few Omega’s shift before him. He knows it’s possible. Their entire lives they were told it was just a legend. He needs to. _He wants to_. He lifts his head and yells, lets himself be taken by the shattering of his shape until his voice turns into a howl. His transformation is quicker, more angular as he fights into his other natural state, his limbs pop and shift into place. His fur is as dark as his hair, patches of it highlighted by russet along his flank.

 

He and Clarke sniff noses for a moment but he quickly focuses on Octavia, curling around the younger wolf and encouraging her to shift, butting his furry head into her side until Octavia moves away from him and sprints, she leaps up at the sky, reaching for the moon before landing on all fours, she may have turned after him but her transformation was by far the smoothest. She’s similar in her brother’s colouring, lovely in the moonlight and if a wolf could smile it would surely be the expression on her face.

 

One by one the others are led into the moon’s shine until the shift takes them. Clarke makes her way throughout the group, bumping her body along theirs, tail wagging, and mouth open in happiness. The exhilaration of the change having caused her to forget the map she had clenched in her hands before the fall.

 

Wells makes a looming shadow as he follows after Clarke’s steps but does not interfere with her interactions with the pack of delinquents not even when a lanky Jasper bounds up to show Clarke his new shape, following him is Monty who is just as shaggy. Wells guards but it isn’t until Murphy swaggers fourth, proud in his sharp angles and slinks around Clarke does Wells strive forward to be a wall between Clarke and the forward Beta.

 

Clarke glares at Wells until he ducks his great head but he snaps to attention when Murphy rounds on them, barking and snarling. Wells looks to Clarke for her reaction but she only stares back, her heart too heavy with resentment to pardon her best friend for his sins. They are slowly drawing a crowd, the other wolves forming a tight wall around the circling pair.  


Its luck that Octavia had trotted inland, gladly sticking her nose into the mossed underbrush, her tail in the air as she digs for more odours. She startles a rabbit from its home and as the tiny shade darts from the excited young pup it garners the attention of the entire group.

 

The chase starts as one, any fighting on stall as they all bound clumsily after the bushy tailed mammal. There’s no finesse in their gait, they’ve never moved in this form. Never had access but there is a joy that sings through each of their earnest efforts. Bellamy leads, his teeth chomping close around the empty air as the rabbit gets further and further away, Finn is just as close with Murphy skulking behind and Wells further back. Clarke runs between the two in the front. She’s chasing because she feels alive, because she can but the two Alphas at her side soon shift their attention to her. It’s instinct, and with the moon swollen and close to them they all feel the sway of it and it heats up their blood.  
  
When Clarke tries to outpace the others they quicken to catch up to her. It’s a rhythm as old as time, each pulse of their hearts that carry blood to fuel their flurry of paws. She’s their target now and she knows it, she’s at the front and as the leading Alphas devote their attention to her there’s a splintering of wolves, some taking after the rabbit, intent on tasting anything that isn’t nutrition paste; the thrill of the hunt clutching onto their devotion while the majority of the Alphas dart after Clarke. Wells and Murphy are the only Betas that keeps chase after the streaking white that Clarke paints through the forest.

 

There were never heats on the Ark, never something that like this. She doesn’t know anything but the need to outpace her followers to sprint over the fresh lands. Clarke’s scent is a tether, linking each Alpha to her and bringing them yelping to her flank.

 

There isn’t a scent that calls to her, not yet, they haven’t proven anything, she’s clever in her moves, spiralling back into the group and leaping over those behind her which causes a clash of bodies as Alphas snarl at one another. She loses an entire section before doing another sharp turn into the thicker forestry, her sudden move making several Alphas once again tumble into one another and leaving only a few to dog her steps. Finn won’t fall for the same trick twice and neither does Bellamy or Wells but Clarke is still by far the fastest, that little bit of extra time in her shift gives her more control and while she’s hallowing out with longing she’s strong enough to be above it, she’s the source of thrall that has capture her trailing suitors.

 

She lifts her snout and follows the crisp wetness of water, it’s a rocky path before she reaches a small river and without another thought she plunges into the shallow crossing and while half drowning and half paddling makes it to the other side. She drenched but her scent has been lost to her pursuer as she hides. The corner of her lips curl up as she watches both Finn and Bellamy stick their noses into the water before snorting back. Wells is whining, big form shoving between the warring Alphas and barking for Clarke to answer. The three jostle against one another and wander around aimlessly in a wild jarring fashion before turning their frustration of losing Clarke onto one another.

 

She knows their bites aren’t going to cause much harm; they are still too new to this. Their jaws too weak and their lunges too awkward but she watches with amusement all the same. Her tail sways erratically as Finn oversteps and slips into the night cooled waters making him yelp and run along the edge of the lake with his nose to the ground as if to hide his error. He must have picked up some kind of trail because the next moment has him sprinting off which brings Bellamy close after his hind quarters. Wells stares across the flowing river, almost stepping towards Clarke before the barks and yips of the others draw him away. Their cacophony of sounds leads further and further from Clarke’s hiding place beneath the gnarled branches of a low hanging tree.    
  
She’s almost disappointed but refuses to come out and trail back to the group. She’s better than that. She doesn’t want to court them; it was their place to chase her. She whines and drops her head onto her forelegs. Ears drooping back against her head as she yawns.

 

The remaining heat from the run dissipates with the breeze quickening through her wet fur. She stands and shakes her whole body, turning from the direction the group was heading. She stops when a pair of eyes glistens from the darker corners of the grove she’s chosen. She should be weary, but it’s the scent that makes her come closer, a rich blend, a tone she wants to hear, it’s strong and with each breath she takes, it warms her entire being.

 

She whines, tilting her head to the side as the gleam disappears but she still has the trace which she cautiously follows. She trails after it until a coarse thicket of bushes forces her on her belly; she struggles through, crawling until she’s freed into a glade. In the middle sits a stranger, an Alpha wolf with fur in shades of the forest around them and eyes of piercing jade. There are intricate braids along the Alpha’s head and neck which Clarke wants to touch and add to. This is the biggest wolf Clark has ever seen and they have a trained stillness to their being, the Alpha’s gaze is careful as Clarke approaches.

 

Clarke barks, tail wagging, she’s never met anyone outside of the Ark, and she had always believed them the last of their kind, the entire race wiped out by their own bloodthirst and greed. She should be afraid, she should be wary but all she can be is curious and hungry.

 

The larger wolf stays tranquil, ever so slightly turning its head down to watch as Clarke lifts her nose to sniff at her neck, tongue peeking out to taste the darker creature’s flews. Clarke is showing deference to the bigger wolf, tentative and hopeful. She’s whining, the chase having given her nothing but empty yearning.  

 

Clarke faces the stranger and drops down her forearms, hips high and tail swaying in good humour. She wants _this_ Alpha. Clarke turns towards the opening of the glade and looks over her shoulder, waits for a moment before struggling through the tight tunnel of leaves and branches. Her pause isn’t long though as the Alpha takes after her in a sprint. Clarke is stumbling over the earth, her paws eating up the leagues under her with everything she has but the bigger wolf easily glides after her. The Alpha is silent as a ghost, seemly phasing through the forest instead of crashing through it like Clarke.  
  
Try as she might it’s obvious that she can’t outpace her pursuer and yet she’s not getting over taken, not pushed to the ground and no fangs clamp onto her ruff. The other wolf lets her lead, follows and nuzzles a snout into Clarke’s thigh. Clarke is quaking by the time the clean air starts tasting of copper and her throat is raw from each gasp, but she wants to keep going to wants to, she wants to, her paws slip and she all but slides down onto the ground and if not for the suddenly firm shoulder she tilts into, Clarke is sure she would have fallen over into the bedrocks. She drops and pants, tail wagging as the other wolf sniffs and checks her over but then whimpers when her follower lays down a respectable distance away.

 

Why won’t the other wolf come, why won’t they be near her? Everyone else had come when she beckoned and she’s ready now. She _needs_ now. Her pheromones flood the space around them but other than a subtle shifting in the other wolf’s posture there’s no more movement from her suitor. Was this Alpha a suitor? How can Clarke tell?

 

She cries out now, wishing she could shift back into her human form, at least she could communicate with the Alpha then, at least she could hear this Alpha’s voice. She yelps and glares her eyes up at the golden moon, the hungry thrum in her veins unable to settle.  
  
Clarke is frustrated and exhausted and overwhelmed in complete wonder. She’s alive, in a place that was their people’s home but should now kill her instantly. The air should be toxic but it has only given her freedom. She’s still here, her heart still beats and her lungs still fill but she’s only one. She tilts her head up and howls a heartbreaking song, so long forgotten in this humble language but clear in meaning. The other wolf stands now, pacing to Clarke’s side, lying down to tentatively groom along Clarke’s neck.  
  
The scent and presence of the Alpha soothes her, warms her to the core until something slackens and in a sigh she’s released into her human form. She’s still breathing heavily, her scent saturating the space around them and sweat clings to her unprotected skin. She’s drenched from the run and this want she can’t explain but the Alpha stays in wolf form lying almost on top of Clarke.

 

The Alpha licks at Clarke’s neck, nudges at Clarke’s shoulder till she turns to lie on her stomach. The other wolf continues to groom and bite ever so gently, incredibly sharp canines smoothing instead of tearing into flesh. The calm is cut short though when the huge wolf stills and then moves to stand completely over Clarke. Lips pulled tight to show the row of gleaming fangs but not a sound emits from her protector.

 

Its Finn then Wells that crashes through the undergrowth. Wells snarls immediately at the stranger near his friend but when he bounds to the rescue Clarke bares her teeth, in human form it’s nowhere near intimidating but her intent is clear and it leaves Wells awkwardly trying to veer off course from his charge. He’s stiff legged as he tries to step to the side, properly chastised.

 

Bellamy comes stumbling in next, and after one glance at the menacing Alpha he looks to Finn and with a truce of shared interest they both move to approach Clarke. They ignore her warning and standing side by side against the larger Alpha they come closer, head tall but still having to look up at the stranger. They growl then snap their teeth in a unified challenge against the strange new Alpha. Their ears pressed tight against their heads, mouth stretched open as saliva froths through gleaming fangs. This was their first moon and they both want Clarke. This was their answer to the call and this Alpha was in their way.

 

The Alpha wastes no time on posturing and instead dead rushes into the pair, knocking the silt grey wolf head over haunch and throwing the ruddy umber one rolling onto his side. Without warning, harsh teeth tear the flimsy flesh of Bellamy’s ear in trajectory to the unprepared 100’s neck.

 

Bellamy yelp, struggling to get away but its Clarke’s cry that ceases the larger wolf’s action. She makes her way up to her knees and places a hand onto the Alpha’s side. It’s clear how outclass Bellamy is to this Alpha but he doesn’t tuck tail or roll to his back. He whimpers and snarls in turn which only makes the Alpha sneer; jaw opening in judgement but Clarke has made her way in front of the prone wolf, crouching between Bellamy and the Alpha. Her skin bright red, she is unused to being so exposed. They never had shifts before; public nudity was an indecency on the Ark. Their customs has Wells politely shifting his eyes to anything but Clarke, while Finn is too focused on shaking the pain inflicted by the rush to even bring his legs up from underneath him.  
  
Bellamy however wags his tail at Clarke’s care and attempts to sit up and lick at her shoulder but she growls and dodges away from his tongue. He tries again but this time the Alpha leaps roaring into him, entire face gnarled into a vicious snarl since Clarke did not wish harm on the foolish pup. If dominance displays was all that she could unleash at the moment then she would be threat incarnate.  
  
Bellamy ducks his head and averts his eyes onto the ground; he’s unable to resist submitting. He whines and trembles stiff legged and slouching backwards towards Finn whose grey form stays tight against the ground in submission. Bellamy twitches his shredded ear causing more blood to flow down his umber fur, enough to gather and drip onto Finn. They look worse than they feel.

 

The Alpha angles her body to shield Clarkes, emitting clear command for the other two to back away. She doesn’t stand down until both other Alpha’s turn tail from the area. They leave with little pride left, ducking their heads low and tail caught between their legs. She turns her attention to Wells next but the Beta stands firm, eyes devotedly on Clarke even if knows the chase was clearly over.

 

“Go back to camp Wells.”

 

He’s clearly uncomfortable with the thought of leaving Clarke, trotting for a few steps before turning and whining at her. He doesn’t want to leave her unprotected but the Alpha has released enough pheromones to drown out Clarke’s scent and would be enough to cause any of the wolves in the 100 to search for safer refuge. He’ll respect her wishes.

 

Sighing with relief when the three Arkers have left, Clarke looks up at her Alpha, this wolf is truly the largest she’s ever seen. Her companion easily towers over her own wolf form, the tip of Clarke’s ears would barely reach this wolf’s neck and now in her human form she feels all the smaller.

 

Clarke hopes it would be okay to place her hand onto the other’s neck. The Alpha seemed content to sit down and allow Clarke’s exploration. She can feel the steel muscles beneath the dense smooth fur and as she slides her palms along the enormous wolf’s back she wraps her arms around the great neck of her companion.

 

“Umm, do you think you can shift back? Is it okay for us to talk?” Omegas had a place in the Ark and it was certainly not to make suggestions or waves but she’s always been an exception to that notion. The moon and chase has made Clarke feel valued, important and she needs something and she needs it hopefully soon from the Alpha.

 

Clarke blushes and realizes she would be keening if she was in her wolf form, she wants this Alpha and she doesn’t know how to show her affections more than she already has. This was all so new. She tucks her face into the Alpha’s plush nape and breathes in relief when the fur recedes to smooth skin. The contact makes her shiver and warm all the more.

 

“Your people trespass into my territory.”

 

Oh, she had expected a firmer voice, deeper instead of this sweet cadence. The girl couldn’t be a couple years older than Clarke and yet marked these lands as her own. Clarke whimpered, trembling at the clear strength in the girl’s claims.

 

“We, we weren’t aware there were others, we had been jettisoned from the Ark and I think we veered off the flight plan, we’re not even near the targeted mountain and we haven’t seen anyone… you are the first we’ve encountered.”

 

“You’re brash and young; your group tears across the lands in cluster of noise, others unseen have already encountered your group.” The Alpha raises a hand to cup Clarke’s cheek, stroking a thumb over the planes of Clarke’s face. “You could have attracted unwanted attention.”

 

Clarke leans into the touch, she burns for it, it makes her words leave her dry throat as a whisper. “Yours isn’t unwanted… have I gained your attention?”

 

The Alpha stays silent, a confirmation in her steady gaze and tilt at the corner of her plush lips. “Perhaps.”

 

“Am I in favourable light with you?” Clarke feels herself shaking, quivering from anything but the mild elements of the night.

 

“Do you wish to be?”  
  
Isn’t it obvious what she wants, can’t they tell? She feels the Alpha’s thumb run along her brows, smoothing the creasing caused by her turbulent thoughts.

 

“Clearly.” Clarke deadpans.

 

The Alpha’s laughs, it’s short but Clarke wants to taste it, feel the emotions she has drawn. She leans up a little, hoping to press into those smiling lips but the Alpha turns at the last second causing Clarke to just touch the corner of the other wolf’s lips.

 

A whimper does escape her now, “please… unless… you don’t want me?” Clarke voice breaks with anguish as she backs a little but her motions are stilled by a firm hand on her arm.

 

“I gave chase.”

 

It’s a simple explanation, as if it was enough to cull all of Clarke’s worries. “I don’t even know your name.”

 

The girl stalls for a moment before leaning close, ghosting her words against Clarke’s temple. “Leksa but you may call on me as your Alpha.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Swing by my tumblr if you want to cry with me over this group of delinquents.
> 
> minarobins.tumblr.com


	2. In the Wake of the Run

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did some major rewrites and characterizations to chapter 1 so you may want to go back and get a gist of things :3c

They are traveling in wolf form, Lexa expertly leading through the terrain; always looking back to make sure her companion is able to follow.  Clarke takes every opportunity to graze against Lexa’s side which causes the Alpha to quickly nudge Clarke back towards a path. 

 

Clarke is utterly baffled as to why Lexa’s interest was so controlled.

 

It was harder to return to her wolf form this time round. The shift occurred almost languidly, the tide of the moon the only encouragement Clarke has now that the adrenaline from the sprint has dwindled. She’s still lacking the cure for the constant thrum under her skin. She’s agitated and slowing as she scents them nearing her own people. Clarke drops her rump down on the spot, huffs as she recognizes the glade Lexa had led her to before. Apparently there are openings that don’t force her worming through the underbrush.

 

She refuses to move even when Lexa turns back to nuzzle and lightly chew along Clarke’s neck. She resolutely shuts her eyes as she curls into herself with her snout in the fur of her stomach. She’s shaking again, her temperature spiking up then plummeting in turns as she tries to even out her erratic breathing.

 

When human hands cradle her face, she lets her head be dragged into Lexa’s lap. She feels her erratic heartbeat steady under her Alpha’s touch. Clarke moves to lick Lexa’s palm but the other girl pulls away. Clarke huffs, gazing longingly up at the Alpha, pleading for more.

 

The foliage in the glade emits a radioactive bioluminescence, splashing the environment around them with a warm radiance. The haze of the starting moon had made Clarke’s focus singular and needy, having earlier passed such a lush alcove without another glance or thought. It’s a wonder, a testament to nature’s ability to survive and adapt, they had polluted the world to only themselves. By taking their race out of the equation, nature had time to heal and create anew. Clarke had imagined fantasy after fantasy of the Earth she had believed her generation would never see and yet nothing compares to how the glow illuminates Lexa’s profile, tingeing the already gorgeous into something ethereal. 

 

“You smell of first heat Clarke but I’ll keep myself in check.” Lexa smiles, detecting the rapt attention she has gained from the Omega. “You do not have to rush us, I’ve already committed to my selection.”

 

Clarke didn’t want the leisure of time, she wanted Lexa; she wanted her Alpha. Clarke’s scent omits in a fresh wave and it’s overly gratifying to hear Lexa bite back a moan.

 

Clarke’s in her Alpha’s lap, she can smell the other girl’s arousal, it wouldn’t be so hard to just turn her head a bit and-

 

Lexa places a firm hand on Clarke’s muzzle. “No.”

 

Clarke whines, moving her head off from Lexa’s lap and stands. She’s bigger than the Alpha right now. She dips and licks at the girl’s neck, snuggling into the long braided tresses. She’s encouraged by a hand clenching to her shoulders so Clarke clamps her jaws around where she would bite if she were to mate the Alpha but the taste has her freezing.

 

Clarke staggers back, feeling utterly betrayed as she scents another. It’s not uncommon to bite when enjoying someone’s company but one was never allowed to apply a claim to a wolf’s neck unless Lexa was already… Clarke snarls, uncurling until she stands tall in human form, glaring down at the girl before her.

 

“You’re mated.”         

 

Whatever Lexa can say to explain away her misleading courting display is cut short by a violent howl, its Clarke’s companions and they are desperately screaming for help.

 

Clarke makes to shift again, hoping to get to her Arkers as quickly as possible. Lexa is already in wolf form, towering beside her and ready to follow. “No, I rescind my answer,” Clarke holds up an unsteady hand, “I don’t want you with me.”

 

She takes off without sparing time to see if Lexa had respected her wish. She’s merely falling into her quadrupedal form and scrambling towards the dropship. She knows she’s being rash for sending Lexa away, whatever is harming her people is an unknown and she could of used Lexa’s help but her pettiness from being deceived has her looping alone through the woods.

 

She bursts through the forest edge and onto the lake shore to find fresh blood splattering the sands. A dozen or so wolves lie still without breath. Others post as menacing sentinels to whatever was inside the dropship’s open bay doors.

 

Bellamy’s fur is saturated in blood and coarse gravel. He’s the one closes to the darkened archway. His lips viciously curled back but just as he makes to rush into the ship something slithers out. It’s nothing like the snakes Clarke has seen in her biology text books. The thing’s shape is an amalgamation of both water and land reptiles, two heads sprouting from a single body, chest of a lizard but hind quarters tapering to a tail long enough to disappear into the metal enclosure. Its face elongated thinly to its snout, eyes wheel round and reflective under the moon’s light. It hisses, mouths shooting wide like a fringehead’s would, needle sharp teeth line the entirety of its gaping jaw.

 

It’s snake like neck bulging with a swallowed victim. Someone was weakly moving, pushing at the scales from within the creature’s neck.

 

Clarke shivers, backing away, calling at the rest of the wolves to move as the beast slides pass the group. Its eyes dart without focus over them, uninterested in the pathetic lot. The frills along its back point straight up and high, seemingly to expand it’s already imposing figure while its scales were a waxy iridescence. Clarke would’ve found this thing a marvel if its complexion wasn’t marred by drying maroon.

 

Their blood.

 

Bellamy barks a deep grunt as he feigns lunges at the leviathan; Clarke mimics the threat and finds Wells suddenly by her side duplicating the feint. The others join in one by one, tightening the ranks and growing bold in false rushing the unwanted guest out of their camp.

 

It moves lighting quick towards the water but the pleasure at scaring away the monster falls short when they see its tail coiled around a limp small thing. It’s one of the youngest, only a girl. She hasn’t transformed, one leg broken in an odd angle, eyes closed and skin ruddy.

 

Clarke lunges without another thought, throwing herself on the beast’s tail and scouring her claws and teeth into the thing’s muscle in hope of freeing the fainted girl. After a shock the rest of them move as a gust of bodies, slamming into the cold blooded creature as from all angles.  
  
They are easily batted aside, none able to gain purchase with their teeth or claws. The creature screeches at them, flailing about to drop one wolf after another. Its shrieking is so high in tone that blood starts dripping from some of the Arkers’ ears.

 

They don’t give up though, instinct keeping them going, knowing they have to keep a strong unified front.

 

Some have reflexes too slow and are caught in the creature’s mouth and then slung down onto the ground without a thought. It’s not a battle they can win so Bellamy rounds on those still able to attack and ushers everyone back, he shifts and circles his arms around Clarke’s neck when he sees her pale shape still attempting to protect the girl. Clarke tries to turn on him but Wells joins in, both intent on saving her as much as she is on saving the child.

 

She’s been betrayed once again! She hates Wells, hates the sight of him for everything he has done and is doing to her.

 

A yelp draws their attention to some unfortunate wolf being caught in its jaws, the thing is leaving but with a prize heading to its stomach, another around its tail and a third in one of its mouth. It keeps its other head turned on the 100 as it descends into the inky lake.

 

“OCTAVIA! NO!”

 

Clarke easily struggles out of Wells grip when Bellamy sprints crashing into the water after his sister but he can only go so deep before sinking, the water level rising above his head as he thrashes and chokes. He keeps struggling even when Clarke, Atom, Murphy and Wells drag him kicking back to shore. They trip, cutting themselves on the jagged stones littering the shallow waters but they make it back to land.

 

Bellamy is furious, crying out his sister’s name as he shrugs out of everyone’s touch. He sputters out water, vomiting it onto the shore as he can only watch the creature shine through the darken lake. It easily clears up a sloped area they can just make out on the other side of the body of water. It disappears into the caverns and the sight turns Bellamy’s anguish into a heartbreaking wail.

 

Whatever joy Earth had given them is all but gone. Bellamy shakes off any clothes offered to him, a quivering mess against a fallen log. Atom sits next to him while Murphy stands by them, eyes on the lake but silent for once.

 

Wells wraps his jacket around Clarke, putting his hand on her shoulder but she shrugs it off. She zips her jacket, looking down at the material hanging over her bloodied knees. She takes a deep breath before starting on the group. “Everyone that is able to move need to pair up and help carry in our wounded, we can’t leave them exposed to the elements.”

 

Finn’s entire left side is raw but he offers his arm to Roma, taking the girl around her waist to host her up as they straggle into the dropship. Others shakenly make attempts to follow in example but several find themselves limping in without aid.

 

“What do you want to do with the dead?”

 

Clarke glares at Wells. She doesn’t want him near and yet he always is there. It doesn’t seem fair that he stands unharmed; her father’s murderer is alive while a little girl is being ripped to shreds. “Find all the clothing we left when we ran, recycle the items left behind by the dead; take Jasper and Murphy to help you.”

 

“What are you going to do?” He’s hurt at her abrasive tone; face more worried now under her assault than when they were fighting a monster. “You’re hurt too, Clarke.”

 

“Now you care?!” Nearly dying, losing some who had ran with her has her to a breaking point. Her heart tears as Bellamy’s howls echo into the ending night. The loss of her father feels as if yesterday instead of a year ago. She’s never gotten better, she has never found closure. She shoves her palm into Wells’ chest, eyes malicious as she watches him stumble back in concession but she follows him through, pushing again until he’s on his back on the ground. “Why didn’t you care enough to spare my father?!”

 

Wells doesn’t fight back, has no more words on the matter as he hangs his head

 

Clarke is livid at his pacifistic response, almost moving closer to lash out again when Finn comes into view. “You need to be at the dropship.”

 

She presses her lips together, frowning up at Finn.

 

Finn grasps Clarke’s shoulder in his hands, tilting his head to catch her eyes. “You’re the only one with medical training to help set bones, we need you inside.”

 

Clarke watches as Wells gather’s Jasper and Monty, sees the dazed pair clinging onto Wells’ composed presence. Sees her once greatest friend gently instruct the willing pair, sees him leading by perfect rule abiding example. He’s a paradigm person. He’s so kind in every aspect of his being, only ever returning her ire with peace and support. She’s burnt out from hating such a willing participant. How is it that he’s like this, a balm to everyone but a curse to her father and her? Where were the days when his presence and smile was all she needed to feel less alone?

 

The cries of the wounded bring Clarke back to focus. “I need to gather supplies.”

 

Blood seeps and mats down Finn’s hair but his gaze underneath is still warm. It’s clear he wants to keep her safe but Clarke can’t go and help without supplies. “I need bandages, strong wood to make braces or splints, somewhere we can start boiling water to clean… to… I need to help them.”

 

“You will but I can get you those things, alright, just, just keep warm for a second and breathe alright.”

 

She nods, body numb as she mechanically strides pass the dead bodies and into the dropship. Some reach for her and she tries to give everyone medical attention but her palms are raw from her sprint back and subsequent fighting, it makes any aid she can offer a laborious activity. She soothes whatever she can manage with the little Finn, Monroe and Myles scrounge up for her.

 

Most of the 100 are lying down or plastered against the wall panels. Clarke recruits Myles to help her, teaches him what she’s doing so she can focus on tending those in more dire conditions. He’s not a quick study, one of his wrists is swollen but he tries through his hiccupping tears.

 

Jasper, Monty and Wells come in at intervals to pile up clothing collected from the beach, sometimes adding a broken wristband onto the heap. Twelve in total were taken from the dead; they stack the bands in the middle of the ship making a small untouched shrine.

 

Near the back Clarke finds one of the two delinquents that died from the impact of the fall. His body has been split in two, belly sliced open and his innards seeping out onto the metal floors.  

 

“Charlotte said she heard one of the boys crying in pain but we had already left and she was too afraid to go outside.” Clarke wishes Wells’ words were said to condemn them for their carelessness but he’s only stating the sad fact.

 

Clarke kneels, closing the dead’s eyelids. There’s no peace in his features, only a blank morbidity. “We left her alone with a corpse and a dying boy.”

 

“We were too consumed by the moon-”

 

“Ignorance to our actions doesn’t absolve us.” She’s harsh, not allowing him to give excuses for what happened tonight.

 

There’s vomit next to the body from someone that couldn’t contain their disgust. Clarke wants to do the same until she notices something off. Why did the creature take one body and not the other…? Why did it go for the struggling when it had two perfectly stiff corpses to consume?

 

There’s a fight happening outside, a ruckus of barks and snarls. Someone is screaming.

 

She rushes outside to find Bellamy still in the same spot, the fire that Finn had erected all but embers now with the sun starting to dawn. The bloodied Alpha is glaring down at a prone Murphy who stares right back with contempt.

 

“Take. It. Back.” Bellamy growls, stepping menacingly closer to Murphy.

 

“She’s dead, you need to at least try and live.”

 

Bellamy looks ready to take Murphy’s tongue just for the statement alone but Clarke steps in. “They might still be alive.”

 

Bellamy snaps his head up and snarls at Clarke, he stands and looms over her, grasping her arm into his hand and with a tug starts the path around the lake. “Then what are we waiting for, let’s go and get them.”

 

Wells moves in between Bellamy and Clarke which has Murphy and Atom immediately going to Bellamy’s side. A few stand to watch in exhausted curiosity.

 

“Whoa, we can’t just go after them without a plan.”

 

Bellamy shoves his forehead against the Beta’s, voice hoarse from his own screaming. “Do you say we let them just die? We’ve wasted enough time.”

 

“Clarke, please,” Wells looks desperately at her, “why do you even think they have a chance, I’m not saying we don’t go but we have wounded that need tending and what if there are other animals, we can’t just take every body still moving and leave our camp unprotected.”

 

“It only took the living; I think it likes to keep its prey alive.” Clarke keeps Bellamy gaze, doesn’t shy away from his focus.

 

“We watched the fucking thing have one of us in its throat, what makes you think that guy is still alive?”

 

Bellamy whips around to growls at Murphy for suggesting against this hope.  He refuses to include his sister or the girl into the body count if there’s a chance. He has to have one hope and he’ll rip anyone to shreds for dashing it.

 

“Maybe it can regurgitate whatever it’s consumed? I can’t know for sure but they could be alive.” There’s a slim possibility and Clarke’s stubbornness to keep everyone, to save everyone has brought her unthinking before the desperate Alpha.

 

“A ‘could’ can cost us more than the two gone.” Finn steps forward.

 

“How dare you!” Bellamy turns on Finn, his knuckles slamming into the other boy’s face. “Who are you to place one life and over another, maybe all those people we are wasting time to heal there are just as likely to die, coward, you’re a coward, we need to go now!”

 

Finn holds a hand up to his bleeding lip, wiping at the blood but only managing to smudge a mark of red along his cheek. “What, are you going to beat me into helping you? Are you going to beat all of us? How far will you go?”

 

“As far as I need to.” _For Octavia._

 

Clarke struggles between the two Alphas, the camp tense around them, lost without clear guidance. A Chancellor led on the Ark and their pack needs a leader now. After such a devastating event, even if the mission is a selfish one for their leader, they as a group require something to follow.

 

“It might do it.”

 

Both Alphas turn to Wells, glowering at him.

 

“A lot of animals regurgitate food they carry to their young, they could be alive.”

 

“You hear that!” Bellamy turns around at those watching, arms stretched out and voice bellowing. “The thing that dared attack us has our people prisoner, what’s stopping it from returning to us for an easy meal? We’ve been caught for small offences, kept as expendables for the privilege up there!” He punches his hand into the air for emphasis. “We move now, stand and defend and claim something or stay here and die as the trash they threw away.” 

 

“We need to make weapons; we can’t just go at it with-”

 

“Follow me!” Bellamy roars, eyes aflame and silencing Clarke. “Show me you are all worthy of the fur of our ancestors.” He shifts to make his point and howls out a long battle cry. He doesn’t stop till the group raise their head to join his call and submit themselves to his command.

 

“Bellamy please, don’t just run in blind, it’s not craven to think before we go.”

 

But Bellamy is off, leading a hurting bunch along the outlines of the lake, intent of making it to the other side where the cave holds his sister.

 

“You should have thought of a plan before you came to tell us.” Murphy notes over his shoulder before leaping into his wolf, taking after Bellamy with almost half of their people who were willing to bend to the Alpha’s demands.

 

“Shit, this isn’t what I wanted; we couldn’t kill that thing before what makes them think we can do it now without a plan!”

 

“Then they will fall.”

 

Clarke looks wide eyed into the forestry, crouching back as Wells steps forward.

 

“And you must let them.” The shadows reveals Lexa, a loose cloak weaved around her body and her eyes emotionless.

 

“Lexa?” Clarke puts her hand on Wells and pushes for him to move aside. “Do you know a way to fight that thing?”

 

“You should not fight it; your people are in its hunting grounds, leave this shore.”

 

Clarke warms to see Lexa coming to warn them. “I can’t evacuate the group; only the injured remain.”

 

“That creature guards and you’ve invaded and called it to your camp, you’re courting death.” Lexa knows she’s already too involved in this matter. “You have enough able bodies to drag the living away from here, you must let Bellamy go, his fight will deter the Lerna from returning before you can make it out.”

 

Clarke feels her heart squeeze, plummet at a realization. “How long have you been idle just watching us get slaughtered?”

 

Wells thunders out a snarl, tugging Clarke behind his back. Lexa calmly rolls her eyes up to watch him, showing little response to his gesture.

 

“It is against these valleys’ laws to interact with the Lerna.” Lexa closes her eyes. “Leave.”

 

“I won’t abandon them.”

 

Wells nods, reaching and sighing in relief when Clarke lets him take her hand. He squeezes. “ **We** won’t abandon them.”

 

Lexa tilts her head, cool eyes settle on Wells; he feels the sheer power of command. Crying out he crumbles to his knees before her, head down with his chin against his chest. He whimpers but refuses to release his grip on Clarke. “You won’t convince her.”

 

Clarke’s confusion over the statement doesn’t need a verbal explanation. It’s in the look shared between the Alpha and Beta before her, both viciously protective. Wells doesn’t hide it and while stifled the expression is reflected by Lexa.

 

Oh.

 

Lexa may have watched their camp get decimated but it’s clear she’s intent on getting Clarke out safe.

 

“I won’t let Bellamy and the others be taken down, I’ll go there too if I have to.”

 

“You’ll do no such thing.” Lexa growls which sets Wells off to answer in kind.

 

“What would you have me do? Chance moving my people and having them bleed out then slayed by whatever else is in the forest?” Clarke moves around Wells and stares into Lexa’s eyes, trying to pervade her desperation to save her people and her dedication to lay down her life if need be. “Help us.”

 

Lexa stays motionless, mouth a firm line; she casts her eyes up to their lot within the ship then back at Clarke.

 

“Please,” Clarke takes a tentatively steps forward, “help _me_.”

 

Lexa raises her chin; tense moments pass as she comes to a decision. “There is already someone preparing to enter the caves, your lot will most likely create a diversion, word will be sent to have them take back the two girls but the swallowed boy’s fight is most likely over.”

 

Wells lets Clarke go, shocked at the amount of reign this Alpha has.

 

“Thank you, Lexa, thank you.”

 

Lexa gives a small nod. “Stay here.”

 

Clarke acquiesces by respectfully dropping her gaze.

 

“Tend to your people here, keep the encampment well lit.” The Alpha lifts a hand, fingers almost against Clarke’s cheek but she leaves without doing more. She heads back into the trees, shrouded by the forests’ embrace.

 

“I’m surprised she left you alone.” Wells notes.

 

“It’s not so strange; I’m no one to her.” Wells doesn’t attempt to dispute her faulty claim, only watches as Clarkes hands tighten, nails digging into her bloodied palms. “You know I will go to them, I can’t let them face that thing alone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm locked and set kids, 20k into this thing and ready to goooo. I want to give a shout out to Kamooi, for being my sounding board and my proof reading beta. You're a star. 
> 
> You can find Kamooi at http://fragemopdude.tumblr.com/.
> 
> Thanks for all the reviews and kudos. It's your support that keeps me going even when I'm groaning at the expanse of my story. 
> 
> Swing by my tumblr if you want to cry with me over this group of delinquents.
> 
> minarobins.tumblr.com
> 
> Cheers guys!


	3. Authors' note

Greetings,

When I started this story I had always intended it to lead to OT3 since I was enamoured with Anya from the start and it was one of the leading reasons I started this fic in the first place. 

Though popular demand has me wondering where I should steer this thing so here we are. 

If you care, don't care, give this dog a bone and drop down a vote. 

Clexa or Clexanya. 

Have fun!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm honestly at the scene where they all get kinky so either I write it and continue on with my story or go rewrite 10k worth of world building. I've been working on the story nonstop since I posted it a week ago but will take a week off to let the votes roll in. I'll tally up next Wednesday and start going at it again afterwards.


	4. Into the Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've tallied the votes and it's pretty much neck to neck if I add up all the votes in the comments. Clexanya actually comes ahead. If the swing for Clexa was more than even 60% I would've posted the Clexa version of this scene but since it wasn't and because you've all been so supportive I've decided to brave this fic into a Clexanya story. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone that took the time to indulge this author's needs. 
> 
> I was already going to make a several different stories in this Omegaverse world so now we'll have a separate AU fic of just Clexa which I'll have complete hopefully by next update. 
> 
> Once again, thanks guys, your support means the world to me.

They’ve returned to the drop ship, assigning guards and trying to scrape together some kind of weaponry. Several spears amass by the bay door, lined ready for departure. 

“What do we know about this thing?” 

“It’s fucking scary is what this thing is.” Jasper supplies which causes Monty to snort. 

Clark frowns at them. “Great, it’s scary as fuck, next?”

“None of us could bite through its skin.” Atom says, still bent over and sharping the ends of a piece of metal, a band of cloth wrapped as his handle. “It was like chewing into wax.”

“Yeah it’s a giant crayon the size of a ship and the shade of pearly death.” 

Clarke snaps her fingers at Monty so he slumps back. “Aggrandizing it into an unstoppable monster isn’t going to help, it’s an animal and it has a name, Lerna.”

“What do you expect us to even do to it?” Atom snipingly questioned. 

“What do you think that piece of metal can do?” Jasper taunts, miming knife jabs into the air. “Poke it to death?”

Atom slaps Jasper’s hand down. “I came out too late so when I tried to turn I couldn’t, whatever the moon does to help us is too far to do it now and I can’t control the shift.” 

Atom laughs at everyone’s startled expression. “None of you have even tried to shift, and the longer we waste time talking instead of going to Bellamy is another moment wasted.” He stands, brushing the dust from his body and turning to go. “It’s a long run for a wolf and it’s going to be longer while stuck like this.” 

“We have to bring something to help them, pure numbers isn’t enough.” Wells calls after him, they’ve already thrown every one of their wolves at the Lerna before and it was no help. 

Wells is standing behind Clarke’s right side, seeming as a permanent structure now that she hasn’t snarled at him in every quiet moment. 

Clarke nods. “Just give us a moment, if we really can’t shift then what can you hope to do?” 

“More than whatever you’re doing now!” Atom snarls, his hand tight around the dagger. “It has Octavia!” 

“And the youngest in our camp or is your care only extended to a potential mate?” Clarke’s words have Atom shrinking back. “What do we have here to fight the Lerna, Monty, please you know the mechanical frame work of this dropship better than any of us, is there anything here that we can use?” 

“Lerna?” Roma lifts her head up from Monroe’s lap, eyes barely able to open. “As in the Lernaean Hydra?” 

“Maybe?” Clarke looks at Wells who appears to be trying to remember one of the stories he has had access to because of his father’s library. 

“The Greek Myths,” Roma sighs, struggling to sit up and gives Monroe a thankful smile when she rushes to help, “it’s a classic but if the name has any meaning then maybe the ‘animal’ is weak to fire.” 

“Heracles twelve labours?” Wells queries. 

Roma nods and Atom scuffs, arms crossed and unimpressed. “Great, the privilege know about mythical stories.” 

Clarke ignores Atom, tilting her head for Roma to continue. 

“No matter how many heads were lopped off the Hydra grew more until the wounds were cauterized by fire.” 

“If that’s all we have then at least it’s something, I don’t care if the myth has any holding. If it’s an animal then it should fear fire.” Clarke looks to Monty. “Do you think we can craft anything in the ship to start a fast fire?”

Monty shrugs, turning 360 around the cabin before helplessly staring back at Clarke. “I’m an engineer not a magician I can’t just summon flames to shoot at it, I mean if we had enough fuel or time I could maybe get parts of the ship moving to scare it away?”

“Monty you’re a genius!” Clarke cheers, wrapping her arms around the startled boy. 

“I am?” He asks, quizzically pleased with himself.

“There has to be fuel left over in the tanks from our landing, if we can find a way to transport some of it to the cave and douse the Lerna then light it with an emergency flare we can do some damage.”

“We got to go now or we won’t be any help at all, we are already twenty minutes behind Bellamy’s group.” Atom starts ripping at panels, scaring some patients awake with his brute force method. 

Clarke looks pointedly at Monty which gets him scurrying towards the unshielded panels. “Accessing the fuel isn’t the issue; the question is how we are going to get it there?” 

“Alright, everyone else here that can help, start pulling the insulating plastics within the exposed sections Atom has so helpfully revealed, Finn, Wells,” Clarke puts her attention to them, “do you two think you can make us some kind of canister, I can suture the pieces together, it doesn’t have to hold firm since I think we should only get close enough to throw the packages, it just have to last till we can get to the cave.” 

Wells and Finn start delegating willing groups and Jasper automatically goes to help Monty.

Clarke grabs Atom before he can impatiently leave. “I’m not keeping you long, I need you to run as fast as you can after Bellamy and tell him to wait for us.” 

“What makes you think we aren’t already too late?” Atom shakes Clarke from his arm. “The prisoners and the others could’ve been eaten by now.”

“I know that someone else is already sending people in to get their own, I’m going to go out on a limb and say that they would know whether or not the Lerna feeds immediately or wait on a corpse to decompose.” 

Atom looks indecisive but with Clarke shoving him into a run he waves a mocking salute back at her. “I’ll tell them.” 

“Who told you they were sending more people?” Monroe asks casually, her hand stroking through the once again asleep Roma’s tangled tresses. 

“It doesn’t matter.” Clarke states, shoulder tense and refusing to face Monroe. 

“Clarke, I’m not interrogating you,” Monroe waits till Clarke acknowledges that fact, “you saved Roma from bleeding to death tonight; I’m here to help and was just trying to look out for you.” 

Clarke wearily sits next to the pair, indulging enough to lean back but trying to prevent herself from collapsing all the way down. Before Bellamy had taken a lot of their group with him she has spent the hours after their run helping those in pain. She’s starting to feel like sleep will take her but fights against it, she shifts her focus instead on watching the attentive care Monroe was showing Roma. “You chased after her.”

Monroe smirks. “Funny how we might have never met, I’m a nobody and she was getting trained to be the head of agriculture but was given the choice of joining the archivist.” Monroe sounds absolutely bemused. “Others were running for her as well and yet she turned and chose me.” 

“Hey,” Clarke places a hand on Monroe’s bicep and waits for the girl to meet her eyes, “you’re an important part of our group now, you were never a nobody and you’re already significant to Roma.” 

Monroe blushes and presses a kiss to Roma’s forehead. “She’s pretty significant to me too, but thanks Clarke, thanks for looking out for everyone.” 

“I’m going to try.” 

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Even with everyone working as fast as we could it takes almost an hour to complete the packages. Bags made from material scrounge together, the outer layers made of seat cushion covering and the shoulder strap a repurposed seat belt. Monty came through and got them access to one of the four fuel tanks and they took as much as they could carry. The plastic lining the inside sloshed with fuel and they had to use one hand to grasp the opening just in case there were leaks. 

In the end Wells, Finns and Clarke are the only ones really able to travel the distance to the caves. Monroe had volunteered to come as well but Clarke asked her to stay and guard the others. The sound of the heavy bay door groaning shut still vibrates in their minds. 

They make it to the caves at high noon, the sun scorched down on them under the breezeless day. The entrance to the monster’s den is a gaping hole into an abyssal darkness. The angle of the sun only makes the pitch darkness within ever more menacing. Their group is strewn across the shore, some in the shade with lolling tongues and bloodied bodies. 

A wolf Bellamy rushes to anxiously sniff at them. Nathan is alert and following at Bellamy’s right while Jones paces at the Alpha’s left. Atom runs up to explain what had happened. The people Clarke mentioned have yet to show up. The others know now that if they shifted they wouldn’t be able to change back. He had caught up too late, the group having stormed the cave only to be thrashed back. They were gathering energy for another run in when Atom had arrived. Several had been wounded and dragged into the shade of the forest. Clarke tends to Murphy and Sterling first, both in human form while some refuse to shift back.

“Bellamy, tell the wounded to turn back into human form.”

Bellamy growls and looks to the cave. 

“He needs us stronger, if they shift back they won’t be able to help.” Atom explains. 

“They won’t live if I don’t tend to their injuries now!” Clarke snarls, Finn and Wells stand firmly beside her while Nathan and Murphy grow restless with the Alpha and Omega fighting before them. “I have no idea how to bandage canine bodies.” 

Murphy curls his lips, about to say something but Clarke tightening the bandage around his side cuts him right off. He abashedly swallows his words, whining until Clarke’s touch softens. 

“No one has noticed the aid you mentioned.” Atom kneels to help hold down Sterling as she moves to focus on the hanging arm; he struggles against her hands and shrieks when she pushes the dislocated joint in. 

Bellamy sides collapse in as he gives a big huff; he turns to the others and barks, moving to nose his snout at their necks until they melt back into human form. He looks pointedly at Clarke then at the wounded. She doesn’t need any more encouragement, instantly helping those that were bleeding out. 

The others can only watch, the prolonged cries of pain lessening with each patient Clarke treats. The tight unease in the group relaxes as more are able to drift into a blank sleep. Their injuries no longer enough to jostle them from their rest; the healing will speed up now that they weren’t trapped in a limbo state of consciousness. 

“Then we’ll have to go with our plan.” Finn sets his two bags down, careful of their contents. “We’ll lure the Lerna out then douse it.”

“I have the flares but we only have two so this has got to work the first time.” Wells holds up the matching red sticks in one hand. “There’s no wind today so any fire damage we start should be a minimum to the forest.” 

“Great, thanks for the notice fire ranger.” Murphy irritably mumbles through a mouthful of blood, the right side of his face having been torn wide open.

“Like it or not this is our home now, we’ve met people living on the ground that has survived the 100 years we were away and we can’t unnecessarily jeopardize their lives.” Wells glares at the other Arker, daring him to say anything else. 

Clarke places her hand on Wells and shakes her head. The idiot wasn’t worth their time arguing with, they had people still inside. “Has it come out of the cave at all or does it only charge when you are within a certain distance?”

“We’ve been here for a while now, as long as we don’t stand in front of the mouth of the cave the thing doesn’t come and it never goes further than it needs to chase us away.” Sterling explains, being the mouthpiece of the group since the others in human shape were out like a light or choking out blood like Murphy. Atom having just arrived has only seen so much. 

“It’s guarding and won’t leave to give chase, sounds like it has young to protect.” Finn discerns. “We lure it, set it on fire then then maybe two of us can go in for the girl and Octavia.”

“We need at least four people or more, there’s another inside the caves that might need our help.” 

Sterling growls at Clarke’s suggestion, slamming his good palm against the ground as he tries to push and get back to his feet. “Why should we help them when we haven’t seen hide or tail of them coming to help us, these savages have left their own to die why should we risk our necks for those on the ground, for these Grounders.” 

“This isn’t the Ark, we don’t get floated because of resources and we won’t be setting anyone’s life at forfeit.” Clarke glowers down at Sterling until the Beta averts his gaze. He’s not so quick to forget who has lessened the insufferable pain. 

“Okay great, everyone matters, kumbaya, so we have three spears,” Murphy points to the two in Finn’s hands and the one with Clarke; “some medical supplies and fuel hopefully enough to kill the damn thing?” 

“Pretty much, this is all we could carry over while making sure as much of the fuel we wanted to bring would last the trek.” Wells takes a glance at the smattering of furry bodies hidden in the forest. “And we have about 30 or so wolves that can still fight?” 

Bellamy dips his head in a yes then turns to Clarke for her plan.

“Right.” Clarke glances around the cluster of teens, a nervousness settling along her back now that she’s expected to lead the attack but the feeling only last for a moment, it was now or never. 

She kneels and draws out the cave opening and their positions. “There seems to be a single entrance so we’ll have one person draw the Lerna out,” she circles a figure at the cave mouth, “and others on the roof readying to pour the fuel down,” several x’s marked to the top of the cave, “we’ll need two people to throw out the flares just in case one doesn’t land,” a fire symbol at the sides of the cave, “and a third group has to act as rescue for everyone within the cave.” She ends the drawing by circling a group of triangles and dragging the line into the cave. 

“So someone has to be live bait.” Atom questions, his voice laced with concern. 

“It has to be the fastest of us,” Clarke confirms, “Bellamy will have to utilize everyone else still able fight to keep the creature from going into the water or returning back to its cave while our third team is going in.” 

“If you think for a moment you’re going to be the lure-”

“Finn, I’m going with the rescue team.” Clarke raises her hand to stall anyone else’s dispute. “I’m the only one with any medical knowledge and I’ll know if we can safely move the prisoners or not, that’s it, end of discussion.” 

Everyone tenses but Clarke’s tone leaves little room for discussion. Bellamy ends the standoff by putting his paw over the spot for baiter and looks up at Clarke for her say in the matter. 

“You’ll have to appoint others to form the herding groups,” Bellamy nods and nudges at Nathan while Clarke delegates the tasks, “one to keep Lerna from returning to the cave,” he then turns to Jones, “and another to keep it from the water.” 

The appointed generals stand, dispersing into the woods to choose their wolves while the remaining humans wait for Clarke to pick her people. 

“This is insane,” Wells states, ever at Clarke’s side, “have you realized that if you’re caught in the cave and you can’t make it out then our group has no Medic.”

“That’s why you’re coming with me so you better have my back.” This time. 

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

They’ve managed to construct two makeshift stretchers from the jackets on Finn, Wells and Clarke. Everyone is set at their spots. Nathan’s group on one side ready to become a blockade to the waters while Jones’s group is broken further into two smaller sets, facing each other outside of the view of the cave so the Lerna doesn’t get alerted to their presence on either sides of Bellamy. 

Bellamy stands with his ears perked up and his body as straight and tall as he can possibly stretch, he’s stationed at the entrance of the cave. His eyes on Clarke’s last minute preparations, waiting for her signal. Clarke’s group consists of Finn, Wells, Atom and Murphy who can still move but can hardly talk without blood dripping everywhere.

The others are in a varied state of anxiousness, their ears perking forward then pivoting partially back. Eyes narrowed against the sunlight and mouths opening and closing in half aborted whines or bark. They are tense as a spring trap. 

Clarke raises her spear into the air and the entire pack falls silent. She makes eye contact with Bellamy and with a nod from her has him speeding into the cave. His paws fly over the ground and they watch as he disappears but never lose his barks. His cries are a resounding echo, giving some indication of the depth of the monster’s lair. 

Bellmay’s voice is all but gone until his calls suddenly spike in volume. His barking comes along with an ear ringing screech. Some of the Arkers duck close to the ground to prepare against the pain while others howl out to cover the Lerna’s bellows. 

Bellamy shoots out with a shrieking body of waxy white thrashing after him. Clarke motions for her team to run in, an open flare having lit the torch in her hand. She’ll have to trust that the others have doused the Lerna in fuel and the flares left behind have already started the damage. She’ll have to trust that Bellamy and the others will do everything in their power to give them the minutes they’ll need.

The ground beneath their feet is saturated with moisture, seaweed lines the sandy floors making them almost fall twice as they go deeper into the seemingly endless tunnel. The torch only shines so far and the darkness refuses to be penetrated by their single light source. The shadows creep around them, coiling their view from anything more than metres away. 

Near the sides of the tunnel are several sinkholes where slithering sand continuously trickles down. There’s no bottom to that particular fall and they are weary to travel away from the sturdy middle of the cave. The cavern is thankfully a very straight one, there’s no winding turns or sudden corners but the darkness only steals closer with each step they take. 

They make it pass an alcove, the sound of crying keeping them from going further. Clarke ventures first, carefully wading through the darkness to shine light on bloated moose carcass. She almost screams but Wells is behind her in an instant, hand steadying her arm. In the very back of the alcove they spot two sandy creatures, tiny replicas of the monster outside. These two are barely the size of a dog and they move excitedly towards the intruders. Their mouths gleam with fresh blood as they sniff at Clarke, tongue unfurling out to slick around her ankle. 

She’s frozen by the curious touch, they were just young, tiny and unprotected and their parent was only providing for them. Another moan has her perking her head up over the inquisitive Lerna young to find Octavia. There are numerous bite marks along her exposed body but very little blood. Her eyes are closed and in her arms is another girl, one not from their camp. 

It’s was her people or these creatures. 

Clarke closes her eyes and slams down the spear. It incites a sharp wail from the tiny thing and scares its sibling backing into the pile of bloated dead bodies. It’s hissing, frills spreading out as it bobs its head and shows its teeth. Murphy rushes forward with a rock in his hands; he slams the blunt object into the smaller creature’s temple and doesn’t stop until its mewling ends. 

The others watch Murphy resignedly as he drops the rock and turns to Clarke. “What.”

“Nothing,” Clarke quickly checks over Octavia’s body, noting a fractured rib but her neck was alright, “just get Octavia on the stretcher and the girl as well, we should be able to hold two until the outside.” 

Charlotte, the one from the Ark is in much more dire sights, her entire body is bloated but the small bite wounds are already clotting up. Her eyes are swollen shut and her continuous whimpers barely audible. “Hey, shhhhh, we’re here now, come on.” 

Being this close to the girl Clarke can feel her grimy fevered skin. They’ll have to get everyone injured into the lake as quickly as possible. 

“Sis em ai.” A gravelly voice next to Charlotte groans, he’s a huge man with tattoos lining the skin of his bloodied face. He seems to have just awaken, a head wound oozing red lazily as he raises. 

He shocks Clarke enough to have her falling back and Wells to come rushing forward while Murphy snatches Finn’s spear to pose it over the man’s throat. 

“Hod op!”

The group turns, the torchlight outlining another Grounder. The woman has her eyelids streaked with black paint, a sword expertly held high in her hands. 

“Back the fuck out.” Murphy spits through a mouthful of blood as he turns his spear to the newest but the woman easily dispatches the weapon from the boy’s hand. 

“We don’t have time for this, we have to get the wounded out of here before the Lerna returns.” Clarke stands arms outstretched before the prone Murphy, situating herself before the newest Grounder, she almost wants to submit but she forces the notion from her mind. “We can fight after we get the injured out safely!” 

The Grounder sniffs the air, wide eyes on Clarke and a snarl on her lips but she turns to the mouth of the alcove instead. “Lerna raun hir.” 

The quicken sound of sloshing water and sand has them backing deeper in the tight alcove. Seconds later a charred head comes shooting into the tight space. Clarke jumps back, dragging Murphy with her as he loses his footing in the bloody sand. Part of the Lerna’s back is still on fire, the fuel keeping the flesh perfect tinder. The fire from its back casts a ghastly light into the entire nook. The light shows more bodies up and around them, plastered against the higher up walls and all desiccated and gruesome to the sight. 

The Grounder slashes her sword at the Lerna and looks momentarily surprised as her blade slides through the creature’s temple which causes the beast to rear its head out from the chamber. Howls and yips from the Arkers chasing after their prey come resoundingly quick. 

They watch as wolf upon wolf throw themselves at the Lerna’s charred body, tearing chucks off and then going in for more. Bellamy leads at the forefront, bringing his group with him and then taking turns bashing into the Lerna with Nathan and Jones’s cluster of wolves. They push at the creature to go deeper into the caves and don’t let up until the monstrous beast is screeching further into the darkness.

Clarke feels her breath come back to her when Bellamy trots into the entrance of the alcove; he darts pass everyone else and nuzzles into Octavia’s neck, licking her burning forehead while emitting a concerned whine. 

Jones comes limping in after Bellamy, having been forced back into human form. “We can’t hold it off forever, we have to go now.” 

Bellamy nods, gives one look at Clarke then to Octavia before he’s taking off into the direction of wavering light and shadows. He’ll give them as much time as he can. Clarke moves to pick up the girl from the Ark while Murphy and Atom help Octavia to one of the stretchers. 

The girl in Octavia’s arms cries out as the Arkers shift her away from O’s barely conscious hold. “Don’t.” 

“I said take them both!” Clarke commands. 

The woman from before looks marginally relieved at this but when Wells tries to approach the Grounder man she turns her sword onto them once again. 

“Just fucking leave them, fuck ‘em.” Murphy pokes his head outside to check and once he sees the coast is clear he and Atom clear off with the two wounded. 

Clarke hands Charlotte to Finn and tells him to go. The boy cradles the girl close to his chest but waits at the entrance, wearily eyeing the woman holding the sword. 

“Finn, go!”

The Alpha scampers out, tailing Murphy and Atom while Clarke kneels beside the Grounder man. She checks his body over to make sure moving him won’t cause death and when she’s sure she nods to Wells. “Come help me move him.”

Wells tries but the woman slides between Clarke and Wells, sword up against Wells and eyes casted back onto the Omega. 

“What the hell, do you think you can drag him out of here without our help?” 

The woman doesn’t move, glaring back at Clarke and then to the snarling Wells. 

“Lexa sent us; we have her permission to be here.” 

At the mention of Lexa the woman stiffens, she bends down to Clarke, hand striking out to wrap around Clarke’s neck. Wells roars and rushes forward but the woman swings her sword back just as quick, it’s stopped a bare inch from Wells’ chest. 

Clarke can’t quite breathe as the woman looms over her, eyes stern as she comes close to drag in Clarke’s scent. She straightens after a seemingly endless moment, sheathing her sword and moving to the man’s side. Clarke is left gasping and utterly confused. 

Wells comes to Clarke but she pushes at his knee until he gingerly goes to help the man onto the stretcher. The Grounder’s hand is death gripped around one of the dead baby Lerna’s neck which makes it all the harder for them to move. 

Wells tries to get him to release the poor dead thing but his fingers are clenched tight. 

They don’t have time 

The woman raises her sword. 

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

“Sis em ai.”=help me up

“Hod op!”=Stop

“Raun hir.”=Is here

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Swing by my tumblr if you want to cry with me over this group of delinquents.
> 
> minarobins.tumblr.com


	5. Sacrifice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh, this chapter is insanely long. I'm sorry that it's practically 5k, I'll be keeping the updates to below 4k from now on!

Clarke and Wells follow after the woman, squeezing past the moose carcass at the bottle neck opening of the alcove. The Grounder man swings between them and the extra weight causes them to almost slip into a sink hole. The woman’s hand shoots out and curls around Clarke’s grimy shirt, yanking her back to balance as they head desperately into the wall of light they know to be the entrance.

 

When they make it outside the twenty or so wolves look glum, some are washing themselves in the lake while others are lying unconscious on the ground.

 

“Where’s Octavia?”

 

“She sprinted back inside when we dropped the kid and of course that idiot Atom would go too, Finn gave us Charlotte but then took after them; I don’t even know how Octavia is moving.”  Murphy has a hand against his reddening eye. “Charlotte is with our wolves in the shade.”

 

The woman hears this and after murmuring to the Grounder man sprints back into the cave. The urgency in her movements has Clarke following without thought and Wells coming right behind her.

 

The ten left have been pushed within yards of the entrance, the creature slithering after their steps. The flames have consumed parts of the Lerna’s skin and muscle. Its dried skin has peeled back revealing blacken bones and pulsing organs. One of its heads thump along the ground, the neck not obeying commands to lift, cerebral fluids leak out of a cut in its temple.

 

Finn has the Grounder girl draped on his shoulder and his arm around Octavia’s torso. Atom is on Octavia’s other side, tugging at the girl towards safety. Bellamy is desperately attempting to keep the Lerna at bay from his sister. The Grounder woman rushes pass the wounded and slides next to Bellamy, sword slashing to block a potentially deadly bite. She deters as many of the Lerna’s lunges as she is able to but the group is losing ground.

 

Its fringed gills spring open as it shrieks at the group, slamming wolves it has gripped in its tail into the walls of the caves. A wolf’s skull caves in and when the beast uses the dead as a club they all dodge back but can feel their bodies get spattered by fluids.

 

The monster is raging, smashing down at the group again and again until the entire ground trembles beneath their feet.

 

Clarke takes the Grounder girl and shifts her into Atom’s arms. He’s limping too hard to really help Octavia without dragging them both down but can at least manage the fainted girl. “GO!”

 

Atom struggles with the new weight but obeys Clarke’s order. He disappears into the bright wall of light as Wells rushes into the fray to give Clarke more room to work. The earth quakes as the battle continues. Octavia drops back as she slips on the squirming wounded head of the hydra, her weight jolts that part of the Lerna to action. Its saucer wide eyes spin to focus on Octavia as it opens its maw to take her entire leg between its teeth.

 

There’s a crashing echo beneath them that stills even the Lerna for a moment. The ground in the deeper regions of the den starts caving in. The floor empties out and a gaping dead drop begins to swallow everything within the cave. The sands drain down beneath the great beast, sinking the Lerna’s hind quarters lower into a bottomless pit. It’s wails are pitching higher and higher in tone and volume as it distresses over its plummet. Clarke watches Wells almost get dragged off the shifting sands before Bellamy manages to snatch onto his arm.

 

The gaping hole is only growing and it has the Lerna which means Octavia is sliding back with the deadweight of the dying head. Both Finn and Clarke fling themselves after her but their momentum has them both veering dangerous near the edge. A sword is hurled clean through the hydra’s neck, making it open its jaws on Octavia but they are already moving down too fast. The trio slide with the sands until Clarke feels her momentum jarred to a sudden halt by a boulder. She ignores the shattering pain in one of her arms and thinks of nothing else but twisting around to grab Finn and Octavia. Clarke screams as Finn grasps onto the arm she’s sure she has broken while her other hand is tight around Octavia’s wrist. Octavia has fainted and dangles without movement at the end of her grip. Clarke shifts so she has her knees against the curved boulder that has saved them tilting over the edge. She keeps her body taunt since the boulder is her only leverage point, knowing if she slackens and tilts then all three of them will be joining the Lerna. Finn is grasping onto Clarke’s but he’s hanging over the edge and any attempts at finding a foothold are only causing her more pain and draining her dwindling strength.

 

“Don’t you fucking dare let go of my sister, Clarke.” Bellamy shouts from the other side of the cave, he’s tugging at Wells with hands just to keep them both from careening in but he lets one go as a warning, the action has Wells slamming into the jagged fallen out edge and the motion almost has Bellamy tilting over as well.

 

Wells’ howls are wet with the gurgle of blood.

 

“You don’t have to threaten me,” Clarke screams back in exasperation, “I’m not letting either of them go!”

 

“It’s not really your choice, Princess.” Finn has stopped his swaying; he’s giving a resigned smile up at Clarke.

 

“Don’t you even think about it, don’t you let go.” Clarke has tears from pain but the thought of losing one of her own in this crater into hell is what blinds her, she feels one of his hands let go and cries all the harder. “We can do it, there are still others, just please hold on.”

 

“Tell Raven I love her kay?” He’s squirming and swing, trying to free his hand from Clarke’s.

 

“You fucking tell them yourself!” But Clarke is yelling to the darkness because he’s gone.

 

Just empty space.

 

For one comically infuriating moment Clarke wonders if Finn realizes that it was the balance between their bodies that even allowed her to keep them from falling into the ravine in the first place. Without him equaling out the weight, Clarke feels herself slide towards Octavia and begin a descent over the edge.

 

Solid ground rips pass her, gravel taking chunks of her flesh then nothingness but she refuses to release Octavia even as she feels a jolt on her wrist. There’s no whistling air as she falls and it’s a moment longer until she realizes she hasn’t dropped all that much. Clarke looks up through the blood dripping into her eyes from a head wound and sees the Grounder woman glowering down at her. The woman has a knife crammed into the rock face above them and another hand gripped into Clarke’s collar.

 

“Ste steel.”  

 

There’s an upward tugging motion which makes Clarke cry out with each jarring yank. The movement shoots pain through her broken arm but she only tightens her grip on Octavia all the harder. It takes a while but eventually whoever was pulling get her and Octavia over.

  
Bellamy wraps his entire body around his little sister, cradling her neck in his hand as he checks her over. Clarke makes eye contact with him but there’s no apology in his gaze. He’s impenitent on what he has inflicted on the group and Wells.

 

There’s nothing he won’t do for his sister. Nothing.

  
With a firm nod and grateful thanks directed at Clarke, he exits into the bright white with Octavia protectively cradled in his arms.

 

Wells sobs as he gingerly brings Clarke in for a hug. He’s coughing out blood and she’s about to pass out from the excruciating pain seizing along her arm. They’re an absolute mess.

 

Clarke turns to the Grounder woman and starts laughing at the solemn concern on the woman’s face. Once she starts she can’t stop. The Grounder helps Clarke to her feet and stays close as she helps Wells too. They are welcomed into the light to see the sun has barely moved two past noon. They’ve lost a lot of people and fought down a beast of legend and yet the world hasn’t stopped spinning.

 

The world has never stopped spinning for any of them.

 

Clarke’s laughter has the entire group going, they give yips and hoots, there’s a manic hysteria in their celebration and some soon turn into thankful sobs.

 

They’re alive.

 

“Clarke!” Bellamy is chest deep in the water. His sister in his arms as he desperately tries to lower the girl’s boiling temperature. “Something is wrong!”

 

Clarke swallows her glee and stumbles from the Grounder woman’s arm. Everything aches and she just wants to sleep but she’s determined not to lose another. She wades into the lake, letting the cool water calm the emulating pain. She blinks confusedly down at Octavia’s bloated body, sees the ruddiness of her skin tone.

 

“Feisbona.”

 

Clarke turns to the Grounder man; he’s smiling as he waves the severed juvenile Lerna head. “Ai fis em.”

 

“Poisonous?” Clarke asks and when the woman nod Clarke sighs, medical and biological lessons blending together to help her piece together the nature of the venom. “It would explain the fast clotting, the bodies in the cave were all swollen with blood, keep the prey barely alive and cause them to hemorrhage internally making the blood pack last longer for the young.”

 

“That’s just gross.” Octavia mumbles, her eyes squinting in the bright sunlight but her voice has Bellamy shatter into tears as he holds her all the closer. “Where’s Tris?”

 

“Tris os, mochof.” The Grounder woman has made her way into the water.

 

“Tris can speak English, are you Anya,” Octavia blinks sleepily up at the woman, she reaches one hand up to touch Anya’s face but the woman backs away, “oh, kay, just cause if you are I know you can speak English too.”

 

Octavia looks perplex at how her hand had missed Anya but then lolls at head back and watches Clarke with a leer. “Heeeeey, how was your chase?”

 

“Tris is fine, thank you.” Anya interrupts before Clarke can answer. “You should all come back to shore; the venom sacks injected into your systems have to be removed.”

 

Bellamy brings his sister to the healer; he brushes her bangs from her face and smiles right back into her happy grin.

 

“The small ones don’t have the venom hence why the parent injects the sacks under the skin of the prey,” the healer taps his calloused finger over a lump in Octavia’s thigh, “every time your heart beats it brings more poison into the blood stream.”

 

The Grounder man had already cut into the bites of his own flesh. “Hello Octavia, I heard you and Tris talking, my name is Nyko.”

 

Octavia smiles some more and tilts back into the warmed shore, her hand clasped inside of Bellamy’s. “Hey…”

 

Clarke goes to Charlotte first, the girl was shaking and feverish, her small body oversaturated in the Lerna’s poison. She manages to wrangle a couple of her people to help bring the child over to Nyko and smiles when Octavia graciously pleads the healer’s attention onto their youngest. Bellamy wants to protest but even he can see how dire Charlotte’s condition was.

 

Clarke makes her rounds through the group, checking on everyone’s injuries and ordering a fire be started to cauterize any open bleeding cuts. She’s swaying on her feet by the time she makes it to Wells who had been watching her until sleep had taken him. There’s a good portion of Arkers piled near and on top of each other like a bunch of worn out puppies around the blazing campfire.

 

When Clarke feels like she’s about to drop onto her knees she finds Anya’s firm grip on her hip. She wants to return her thanks but Anya’s serious expression of displeasure has her voice stall.

 

“A leader knows when to guide and when to delegate.” Anya strokes a hand up Clarke’s spine and coaxes the girl down onto the sand to lean back into her chest. “You’ve already sent Murphy back to alert the group at your camp and everyone living right now will make it to tomorrow, rest now.”

 

The living… Finn. Clarke chokes up a cry as she recalls Finn’s selfless act. All three of them would’ve made it if he held on but he chose to plummet down into the abyss while thinking he had saved her. “He’s dead.”

 

“Yes.” Anya combs a hand through Clarke’s hair, wiping at the blood seeping from the cut caused by the loss of Finn’s weight during their earlier balancing act.

 

“I couldn’t save him.”

 

“He was brash and could have killed you all.” Anya rumbles her tone suddenly angry.

 

“Only if you hadn’t been there.” Clarke blinks tiredly back at the Beta, surprised that the woman would care so much on her behalf. “Thank you for risking your life to grab the both of us, you didn’t have to.”

 

“I did.”

 

Clarke furrows her brows, thoughts muddled once again by the heavy fatigue in her body. She’s content though, the strong heart beating behind her eases the ache in her body. She lets her head loll back onto Anya’s shoulder. The scent seems familiar.

 

So familiar.

 

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

 

Clarke’s arm feels like it’s getting torn off. She needs to let go or… She looks to the side and sees Bellamy grin towards her, his smile slashing through his face until his skin rips back to reveal bloodied fangs. His hands snap into paws, leaving Clarke to watch as Wells disappears into the dark ravine.

 

Clarke finds her breath gone, her heart constricting just as hard as it had when her father had died. Seeing Wells gone gives her no reprieve, she’s no happier to lose another. Another and another and another. How many will she loose?

 

“Death for a death, Clarke, you’ve killed my sister and Finn.” Bellamy paces towards her, his body smoky as he curls his tail around her. “You’ve even lost Charlotte.”

 

“No, I haven’t, Octavia is alive!” Her hands shift and she finds herself in wolf form, on all four she charges him, tackling the russet wolf onto his back as he smirks up at her. “Finn and Charlotte are both fine!”

 

“Am I?” The auburn fur glimmers, bends and moves as if a pulsating wave is caressing the colour from the fur until Clarke finds herself staring at a silt grey wolf. The ashen fur ripens with blood, the body lies fall broken beneath Clarke. The wolf’s chest cracks open as his mouth gurgles. “My heart was beating for you, I was chasing you, and I died for you to live.”

 

“No, I never asked for you to!” Blood oozes from the chest wound and floods the pit Clarke finds herself in. Her paws are soaked with red; the gushing flow comes up to her chest until she has to kick her legs out to stay afloat.

 

The body disappears under the rising crimson waters but Clarke can’t paddle free. There’s something beneath the darkness grasping at her ankle. She feels herself be plunged under, an unrelenting force taking her deep into the bloodied liquid until there’s only the empty of vacuum of space.

 

It’s her father, lips blued and eyes milky. His cries can’t be heard but the sight of him alone has Clarke drowning. Her chest feels like it will splinter open just as Finn’s had. She sees her mother next in similar state, suffocated and gone.

 

Everyone on the Ark will die because of the compromised oxygen systems. How was she going to save them? She has to stay alive long enough, to have her bracelet transmit her life as a beacon back to her people.

 

She can’t make it to the top.

 

Her arm feels crushed as she startles from the bed. There’s not enough air, there’s not enough. She’s drowning and she can’t get her lungs to fill with anything but death. She stumbles from the comfy blankets but find her feet leaden and useless. She falls and knocks over the bedside table, landing heavily onto her already injured arm.

 

The pain shocks all her senses into blinding white.

 

Her entire body stiffens.

 

Air.

 

Air.

 

She needs air.

 

She scrambles from her belly, crawling to the entrance until she drops onto the dirt ground outside the housing. She rolls prone onto her back with the round moon high in the pitch dark sky. The world seems so much vaster than the windows on the Ark had made it appear. Everyone seems so microscopic in the scheme of things. Her erratic breathing slows, she forces herself to hold a breath in to just wait out her need to gasp in air but she can’t release it when Finn’s face appears before her. His expression is rather blank, disappointed.

 

He’s here? He can’t be… He’s dead? She killed him?

 

“Clarke, you should not be out of bed.” A voice above her fades Finn’s shade.

 

“Lexa?” Clarke coughs up the name startled, the pain from her arm makes her keep still, sleep tugging insistently for her acceptance.

 

Clarke feels the Alpha slip an arm underneath her legs and another behind her shoulders. She feels secure for in these strong arms.

 

But the sheets on the bed swallow her whole and she’s taken under as soon as the Alpha leaves.

 

Everyone she’s tries to hold close, her father, Finn and now Lexa… they all eventually go.

 

The dream repeats itself and Clarke can’t wake from the cycle.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

 

When Clarke blearily opens her eyes she’s in the same plush bed of fur. It smells safe around her, warm. She takes another unsteady breath but finds she can’t sense any of her people. Where was she before? On the beach? Where was everyone, are they safe are they okay?

 

“Wells?” She sits up, head pounding and mouth dry and hurting. “Octavia?”

 

A hand settles on her back and a cup is brought to her lips. She’s parched, and she takes a sip. She can barely see, her eyes feel overly sensitive even to the soft candle light. She tries to spit out the bitter liquid but finds her nose clasped shut and another hand clamped on her mouth.

 

She struggles for as long as she’s able to, managing to satisfyingly knock her elbow into something but once the liquid slides down her throat, she finds sleep swallowing her in turn.

 

It’s a thankfully dreamless event.

 

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

 

This time Clarke wakes to notice her arm in a sling. She’s in new and unfamiliar clothes but the scent is the same one that she can sense from the bedding. She has to get to her people. She has to find her way back.

 

There are weapons galore in the wooden housing but she chooses to take a thin metal blade into her good hand and cautiously makes her way to the door. She wraps a shawl around her golden hair and creaks open the entrance. It’s still night time but the moon seems further away. There’s a large bonfire blazing at the far center of the village and an abundance of life in a supposedly inhabitable Earth. If she stays to the outskirt of the village she should be able to stay undetected. She’ll find her way back to her camp by the stars or scent if that’s what it’ll take. She can slip into the forest and make her way round through there.

 

“You shouldn’t be up.”

 

Clarke spins around and almost loses her balance until Tris’s steadies her.

 

“They’ll be worried if they don’t find you in bed.”

 

“Who’ll be worried?” Clarke questions, her voice low, afraid to garner attention. “Are the others okay, the girl that was with you, where is Octavia and Charlotte?”

 

Tris grimaces, pulling away when Clarke had leaned in desperate for information. “You’ve been asleep for almost three days; maybe you should freshen up before going to your friends or Heda and our Unit Lead.”

 

Clarke blushes and holds the back of hand against her mouth as she speaks. “Sorry, I’m just…disorientated.”

 

“Tris, you may leave your post.” Lexa commands, voice soft. She’s donning full armor, her body layered with straps of leather and steel. The soft breeze plays with the jacket’s ends against the ground, chasing the frayed cloak of crimson flags from her pauldron. She appears more intimidating than before, her hair in a intricate braid and a fierce splash of black stretches over her eyes and drips over her sharp cheekbones.

 

Clarke can’t help but find herself as captivated as she was during their first encounter.

 

Tris bows her head to Lexa, letting the woman hold a hand against the back of her neck for a second before heading into the forest. “Tris has insisted on taking guard shifts; I hope she didn’t startle you.”

 

“Umm, no.” Clarke shakes her head, hand still up against her lips. “Where are my friends?”

 

Lexa reaches for Clarke’s knife. “Your group has been taken as guest at TonDC but perhaps you’ll like to see them now?”

 

Clarke drops the weapon into Lexa’s palm, her fingertips grazing against the Alpha’s skin. The touch sparks up along her arm and warms her in ways she really shouldn’t be feeling at the moment.

 

Her whole face burns red.

 

Lexa smiles, her stance next to Clarke a very formal distance as she leads them towards the center of the village. There’s a gargantuan roast being prepped over the open flames. The people chatter in a foreign language and children dart around the adults, skimming from the dishes being prepared and getting shooed off. Clarke’s stomach is still too uneasy for her to enjoy the scent of food. There’s a percussion of drumming from a pair of older men and-

 

“Wells!” Clarke runs now, almost falling over before leaping into a smiling teen’s hug. There’s abrasions all over her skin but she laughs when he lifts her up. They spin for half a turn before he’s settling her right back down, he bends over coughing as he presses into his ribs.

 

“Oh my god, I’m sorry.” _Are you okay?_ The question stays on Clarke’s tongue. The initial excitement at seeing a living Arker has worn off and everything crashes back into her. She certainly doesn’t want Wells dead but they’ll never be like before. Not after her father’s death. She’s still mad at his betrayal and now resentful of the distance he has instigated with his actions. She wants to have him back and he obviously sees his place supportive and by her side but she can’t.

 

Not completely, not yet.

 

He must see the shift in her posturing, the confusion and upset clear on her face. He’s much more sombre when he straightens fully. “I’m fine, I’m happy you’re okay.”

 

“Yeah, Princess, you’ve been out like a light even longer than me.” Octavia smirks from her spot around the ring; she’s leaning heavily against an imposing Grounder while Bellamy broodily glares at the man.

 

She can hear Finns voice, feels her heart sicken at his look of acceptance when he lets go.

 

Clarke’s expression crumples as she snarls at Octavia. “Don’t. Ever. Call. Me. That.”

 

The crowd fall silent, the drumming stops and the children gawk at her. “I’m… I’m sorry I just… Finn...”

 

Octavia ducks her gaze, understanding her error easily. Bellamy had stood on alert but he settles once he sees that Clarke’s outburst meant no harm.

 

“He was a good Alpha.” Bellamy concedes, turning his focus back to his sister and food for the time being.

 

“He…was.” Clarke trips over the past tense; it makes her feel raw for having a hand in loosing another one of their group. “Where is Charlotte, did she recover.”

 

“She’ll make a full recovery, but it’ll take time.” It’s the Grounder beside Octavia, his eyes are unusually kind. “I aided Nyko in his treatments.”

 

“Thank you…” She doesn’t know his name. 

 

“Lincoln.” He dips his head. “Thank you for saving Octavia.”

 

Clarke can’t answer to that; the weight of the dead lingers, she didn’t manage to protect everyone.

 

“Hey don’t look all gloomy, this tall dark and handsome just thanked you,” Octavia stands, her optimism making her miss her brother’s snarling towards Lincoln who doesn’t even glance his way, “we’ve got food and we’re alive!”

 

“I guess… I guess we are.” 

 

Clarke notices Lexa and Anya standing together near the flame. Many approach them, kneeling to the Alpha before conversing. Clarke’s focus is drawn back to her group, they some of the healing techniques Nyko had used but then move on to other topics. It’s so commonplace it felt like they were in the Ark cafeteria.

 

The hustle and bustle of dinner time is in full swing when Anya and Lexa make their way towards Clarke. “There’s a lot we must discuss.”

 

“We don’t want to take you away from your people so soon but it’s urgent.” Clarke looks to Lexa then Bellamy and Wells; the boys give her a subtle nod.

 

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

 

Clarke follows the Alpha and Beta back to the housing she was in before and they settle around the fire pit. Anya starts the flames while Lexa sets up a large pot of water to boil. They work in easy tandem, a familiarity bred with a lifetime.

 

The pair sit in front of Clarke on the soft woven carpet but keep themselves at the same level as Clarke which makes her want to duck lower. She had seen them outside, however briefly she had witness the village all respectfully keep their heads below their leaders. They hadn’t acted afraid of them, just respectful. Even Clarke’s own people had deferred to these two.

 

“Even with Lexa’s permission, your group had entered a sacred ground and slain the beast that protects this valley.” Anya begins her words ever stern. “We’ve told the neighbouring clans that you lead your pack and they’ve given as much time as your awakening takes to postpone the discussion of your crimes.”

 

“But with your rather witnessed arrival to tonight’s dinner there’s no doubt that the other clans will convene in TonDC to speak on the matter before tomorrow ends.” Lexa looks a mix of impressed and chagrined. “I hadn’t expected you to greet your pack so readily after what I’ve heard they’ve done.”

 

“What they’ve done?”

 

“Your group is rather… let us call them talkative.” Lexa steeples her fingertips together as she carefully chooses her words. “You’ve had a rather eventful time considering you agreed to stay in your own camp the last time we spoke.”

 

“I couldn’t let them die.” Clarke does duck her head now but she raises her eyes to assess the pair. Lexa appears impassive but Anya is downright hostile in expression.

 

“Yet you would put yourself in harm’s way?” Anya growls, leaning over the Omega but Clarke doesn’t back further.

 

“If I hadn’t brought the fuel then we wouldn’t have been able to damage the Lerna.” Clarke holds her ground but doesn’t bare her teeth at the Beta, Lexa seems amused by her stubbornness but Anya is anything but pleased.

 

“What if you had been hurt in the fight…” Anya clinks her mouth close, fangs having elongated during the talk.

 

Lexa places her hand on Anya’s knee causing the Beta to huff and stare into the fire. They are all tense, Lexa appearing much more detached in her full attire, Clarke confused by Anya’s sudden anger. Had the Beta been worried _for_ her?

 

“We acted only in the hopes of protecting and retrieving our people, surely there’s a way around… Punishment?” Clarke looks at the sling her broken arm sits in, if Lexa or Anya truly intended for her to come to harm it would be rather wasteful to use all this time to let her recuperate. “Who will take the sentencing? Will my entire pack be held responsible or will only their leaders?”

 

She should discuss their alternatives with Bellamy who she deduces her camp now follows. That boy has ruthlessness in him that their pack may need to survive on Earth. They need to make it, at least **one** of their people must show their vitals to the Ark to ensure the ship will re-enter Earth’s atmosphere. She thinks to Finn, for his thoughtless sacrifice. To how many they’ve already lost lining the shores bloodied and bruised. She doesn’t even know how the others at the camp were doing.

 

“If it is allowed I’m willing to be held accountable as their leader.”

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

 

“Ste stel”= Stay still

 

Feisbona=Poison

 

Ai fis em=I can cure her

 

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just the quickest of questions. Is there a strong craving for Raven in this story?


	6. The Calm

Anya looks to Lexa and the pair silently communicates long enough to stress Clarke the fuck out.

 

“That’s why you pushed the meeting till after I woke right?” Clarke watches both of their expression, getting more anxious at the thought of her entire pack getting annihilated. “I don’t know how many paired up during our run and how many have already lost their mate at this point and even if I was to be punished the group can still be led by Bellamy and Wells. I can only hope to god that Wells will keep Bellamy sane but if nothing else he’ll make our group strong enough to last.” _Till the people on the Ark arrive._

 

“Clarke, breathe.” Lexa holds a hand up, hovering just over Clarke’s stilled chest. “There’ll be no punishment.”

 

Clarke sobs, clamping her hand over her mouth to stifle her release of worries. It has just been one thing after another and while she had rested she certainly hasn’t found much peace.

 

“Clarke, it wasn’t our intention to cause such panic.” Lexa speaks while Anya settles next to Clarke and hands her a cup filled with aromatic mint leaves. “We just wanted to prepare the Skaikru and give help to the wounded before the meeting began, if the council began immediately then we would’ve been banned from offering any aid till after a verdict had been agreed upon.”

 

Clarke tentatively takes the cup from Anya, focus shifting from one Grounder to the other. The Alpha stays at arm length, words formal and careful while Anya is practically touching her side. She wants to lean in and something in her thinks Anya would welcome the contact, however silent and cold the woman was remaining at the moment aside.

 

“You may have slayed the guardian but you’ve also managed to destroy the Maunon’s quickest access to this portion of the valley.” Lexa pours hot water into Clarke’s cup, placing steadying fingers beneath the ceramic when Clarke quakes at the pairs’ proximity. “In a way you’ve taken away a huge threat and given us a safer alternative.”

 

“You’re overwhelmed,” Anya notices Clarke’s trembling and fetches a blanket to wrap around the Omega’s shoulders, “do you need for us to leave?”

 

“No!” Clarke stares down at her drink, suddenly unsure of her place between the obviously mated pair. “This is your house; it smells of both of you, I’m just… not sure why I’ve been allowed in here.”

 

“You’re our guest and the leader of your own pack; it’s easily explainable to others why we’ve offered one of our best lodging.” Lexa tilts her head.

 

“Oh, right.” Clarke takes a sip of her drink; the sweet taste and warm liquid making her feel slightly better. It was silly of her to think this arrangement anything more than a political one. “I could at least let you two have your bed back, I can stay wherever the Arkers are in at the moment.”

 

“It’s not an issue to have you as our guest, Clarke.” After a shared look to Anya, Lexa continues. “We both want you here.”

 

Clarke is rather doubtful Anya is anything near pleased that she has invaded their house. Other than her suddenly kind actions Clarke can only recall Anya’s hand gripping around her throat and… oh… the Beta had been her cushion during the aftermath of the Lerna fight. Clarke blushes fiercely at the memory. It’s all incredibly inappropriate for her to be harbouring such feelings towards not only Lexa but _also_ Anya who can’t possibly be receptive of her intrusion.

 

“I’m sure my pack’s two leaders can handle being in a single place.” Clarke is hesitant to believe her group has willingly chosen her since most of them had followed Bellamy’s summon. “I’ll talk everything over with Bellamy and if nothing else we can certainly compromise over our sleeping arrangements.”

 

“Bellamy chased after you!” Anya sneers, Lexa having obviously shared what had happened with her mate.

 

“I didn’t answer his run!” Clarke retorts back just as firmly, she can’t help but shift her eyes to Lexa who is looking rather taunt. _I answered yours._

 

Did Lexa tell her mate that she had chased after Clarke as well? Did Anya know that Clarke had answered? A scarlet letter should be etched into her skin; Clarke feels a headache pulse at her temples. “This was not how my parents had raised me; I’m not some bond invading bitch.”

 

“Ah, we should clarify our intentions.” Lexa placed a calming hand onto Anya’s neck and looked ready to offer the same reassuring touch to Clarke. “Do Sky people still tell tales of the Starting Three?”

 

“Alpha, Beta, Omega, the starting triangle that called for the moons blessing and gave our ancestors our wolf forms?” Clarke asks, a little off balance at the sudden shift in conversation topic. “Everyone knows of the story but no one keeps to those traditions anymore.” At the bewildered expression in both Grounders’ face, Clarke continues. “There’s the lack of room on the Ark for one thing and of course the dwindling number of Omegas.”

 

“Had the Great War caused defects in the Skaikru as well?” Lexa has a hand coaxed into Anya’s hair, it’s all rather private of a moment and it has Clarke blushing fiercely again but refusing to avoid her gaze. They are choosing to act like this in front of her; she’s not going to be the self-conscious one if they have no regard for company.

 

“There’s little need for an Omega’s fertility in limited space and we require more medical treatments to ensure...” _Their continued sterility_. Clarke thinks better than to share that piece of information. “Omegas are costly to the Ark hence why couples were always encouraged to abort their omega young.”

 

“Abort?” Lexa furrows her brows, she seems to get the gist of where Clarke is going with this but questions all the same.

 

“I was lucky to be born at all.”

 

“Barbaric!” Anya roars and shoots out of Lexa’s reach, she turns her back on Clarke as she stalks to the far side of the room.

 

“Clinical.” Clarke explains, she’s been taught her whole life of her special circumstance. How much her parents gave daily just to support her life. Her emotions on the subject are too twisted up in trained gratitude towards Ark’s lenience to her existence. It’s a knee jerk reaction for her to defend the Ark’s laws.

 

“You’re a perfectly healthy Omega, there’s no reason to have ‘aborted’ you!” Anya is livid and paces throughout the room, a snarling rumbles through her vocal cords. “Do not be so appreciative of their so deemed altruism towards you.”

 

“It is done, Anya, Clarke is with us now.” Lexa’s expression reminds Clarke of her mother when her father was being particular eccentric, almost a ‘do you see what I have to deal with’. It’s an exasperated type of fondness but the Alpha also seems conflicted with the information shared. “You were the one that told me dwelling in the past foils the present, miya.”

 

“Chief Indra’s advice.” Anya has a rather vicious smirk as she drops back beside Lexa. “It’s good to know you pay me some mind.”

 

“Ai hodnes.” Lexa moves till her forehead presses into Anya’s, she closes her eyes and waits till the Beta’s rolling growl settles before pulling away. “Focus.”

 

Clarke sighs, shifting uneasily at the scene before her. This was all very _very_ **_private_**. Her near silent noise has Anya’s sharp gaze piercing into her which makes her drop her eyes. Clarke swirls the cup in her hand, watches the leaves move instead of the more interesting pair in front of her. She drains the cup and chews nervously on the mint to give her something to do rather than stare.

 

“There has always been a need for all three to attain balance in a pack.” Lexa starts, bringing their conversation back to the topic at hand. “Anya did not mean to lose her temper but be assured that the thought of Bellamy near you has us both…” she smiles all teeth and no play, “ _on **edge**_ , he shouldn’t have challenged me in the glade, you had already expressed your choice to them but other than Wells neither Alpha’s respected your wish.”

 

“It was their first moon.” Clarke automatically sides with the Arkers, having been instructed her whole life to be careful of her pheromones. Even with her extra suppressant costs to the family she has always been a liability to the Ark. Her mother had been kind enough to opt out of permanent sterilization. It was a common path for Omegas to bear since they were still able caretakers. There is plenty of floatation sentences on the Ark meaning there are always unattended orphans in need of adoption.

 

“No, Clarke, never let anyone use instinct as an excuse to you, we were permitted these wolf forms but they are a gift and not a scapegoat for the gluttonous,” Lexa is firm in this fact, “know that no one in my southern valleys will ever violate your wishes on the matter of the chase, it’s something punishable by purge of one’s family bloodline.”  

 

Clarke doesn’t know how to react to this severe information.

 

“We are better than our baser selves and Omegas should be cared for, never taken advantage of.” Anya adds in, her fangs elongating for a moment before she settles once again under Lexa’s hand. “After the Great War the Earth had been poisoned and we’ve lost many Omegas to defects, it wasn’t until lately that there’s been a rise in healthy births.”

 

“I hope our chase will still be accepted by you.” Lexa holds out her hand, palm up to Clarke. “I had followed with the intent of running for both me and my mate; I should have made our attempt at your favour more clear.”

 

It seemed like a fairy tale though Clarke had always known better than to dream up better prospects for her Omega self. She’s not so foolish to indulge herself on such a fantasy. It would be too painful of a daydream for Clarke to entertain while locked up. Caged by her own biology and the Ark’s law. Probably kept from floatation because of her mother alone. There are always methods to lose a delinquent; an error in the dock coding or an air containment breech. It wouldn’t be the first time Clarke has heard particularly challenging individuals too young for corporal punishment and too much a drain to wait the long years to 18 sentencing to just ‘disappear’.

 

Though here, here she was wanted not by just one but two potential mates. They were treating her with respect she had never been taught to expect. If she had been fortunate on the Ark she may have found a mate willing to indulge in the expense of keeping her medical upkeep till after their first had been born and then she would have been permanently sterilized.

 

“Even in the stories, it’s extremely difficult to have a compatible union of three.” Clarke’s shaking grip tightens around her cup. “What if I’m just the Omega you’re settling on and not… I’m just…” she can’t help repeating what she’s been told a million times, “and I’m I’m lucky to have been born.”

 

“If you were to let us, we would be the lucky ones to have you Klark kom Skaikru, you’ve led your people well and have placed them before your needs even during a time of crisis and your own injuries.” Lexa’s eyes are soft in the light of the flames.

 

Anya appears quite agitated by Clarke’s once again admission to being lucky to be an Omega and live and does little to control it. “Let us answer?”

 

“If I don’t, what will become of my people?”

 

“We’ve both agreed that an alliance is acceptable but if you were to be our mate then I would have Skaikru be taken into my Coalition and as our Omega there’s little the other clans can do to contest this.” Lexa takes a steadying breath before reaching for Anya’s hand. “This is not a political request Clarke; surely you can tell how we feel for you.”

 

Lexa’s interest is perhaps clear but to Clarke, Anya appeared to be just obedient to her Alpha’s wishes. The woman has been hostile and rough in turns. It’s hard to handle knowing the fate of your entire group rests in your choices. Clarke holds her hand up against her forehead, the building headache from before mixes with her fatigue, she doesn’t feel equipped to deal with any of this right now but she’s also sure as hell if she passes out she’ll end up in another round of nightmares.

 

Her decisions would be dictating the path of her entire pack, perhaps she _was_ the leader.

 

“We don’t mean to rush you, it would be unacceptable to have your choice be made under duress and we won’t have you think of our announcement of interest as a forceful act,” Lexa adds when she sees Clarke’s struggle, “perhaps it’s time for us to leave; the venom is still making its way through your body, it has been known to cause rather uneasy sleep and you need your rest.”

 

Anya nods in agreement and stands when Lexa tugs at their joined hands. They make a striking pair; Clarke wonders how well she’ll settle between the two of them. Clarke can detect under Lexa’s bravado and impassivity that she watches Anya with a vigilant protectiveness. It’s a fierce kind of emotion, something stemming from lost and heartache. Though it’s harder to recognize this behaviour outside of the house, from little she has seen, they stand together but never touching, always formal. Both Anya and Lexa are remarkably detached in public but staunch in their stance beside one another. They seemed magisterial over everyone Clarke has seen them interact with. Unyielding being the word Clarke would use to characterize them.

 

“You said it was acceptable for us to all stay in the same hut.” Without the bitter liquid from before Clarke worries of the dreams that will haunt her. The pair look hesitant which has Clarke mumbling, “I can’t sleep.”

 

She’s mortified to admit it out loud. She can’t indulge in her neediness for companionship when Earth has dangers she can’t begin to understand. She’s making a mockery out of whatever good impression she has managed to accumulate.

 

“There’s no shame in dealing with trauma outside the battlegrounds.” Lexa tone is soothing as she offers her hand and leads Clarke back to the bed. “We will stay as long as you require us.”

 

“Lay down.” Anya pushes on Clarke’s chest until she’s flat on her back, the woman piles on blankets until Clarke starts smirking at the suddenly attentive fussing. Anya blushes and turns away from the squirming girl in her bed.

 

Maybe Anya wasn’t as vocal as Lexa but perhaps she was just as willing to allow Clarke into their home.

 

The candles and flames are snuffed one by one until only a sliver of the moon’s ray pierce into the room. Clarke can just make out Lexa and Anya helping one another strip from their armor, shirts, pants and holy fuck do they sleep in the nude because Clarke may want the company but she’s not sure she’s ready for anything like that.  

 

She screws her eyes shut as the bed dips on either side of her. She tries to remain calm, to center her breathing but she can’t. When she hesitantly peeks she can just make out Lexa in her wolf form. Her mouth is open in almost a laugh, her tail wagging while Anya has her head down on her paws, looking quite perplex at Clarke’s abrupt stiffness.

 

“Oh my god, you two are having me on.”

 

Lexa barks, mouth still open in good humour until she leans experimentally close to Clarke’s face. “Well at least I know _you_ are having way too much fun on my expense.”  
  
Lexa snorts her nose in answer, and then makes herself comfortable aligned just a hair’s width from Clarke’s injured side. The bed is quite huge, seemed impossibly large for just one but with her two companions beside her she doesn’t feel like the bedding is sinking her into waiting nightmares.

 

Lexa’s tail is wagging under Clarke’s stare, though the she-wolf’s tries to keep her mouth and eyes close to feign sleep. It’s ridiculously endearing for such an imposingly sized wolf.

 

Anya’s face is sharper, having a more tapered snout than Lexa’s, appearing almost fox like. Her colouring is quite a bit darker than Clarke’s but splashed with blonde and brown undertones. Her face is the lightest, almost like a mask of condensed tawny fur over the smattering that covers the rest of her body; the colouring is complete with dark markings over hazel eyes. The shape reflects the paint Clarke recalls from her first meeting with Anya making her wonder if Lexa’s wolf form has something similar but the room is too dark for her to ascertain that fact. She can’t quite remember how Lexa looks, not the exact patterning. It was her first time encountering another wolf and it had been the scent and feel of her surroundings and Alpha that had enamoured her.

 

Now in the darkness of their room, Lexa was a foreboding shadow beside her; though instead of the drowning nightly visions Clarke has had to endure these last couple of days, Lexa’s presence exudes security.

 

She lifts her hand just over Anya’s head. The she-wolf looks expectantly at Clarke, her tail swaying ever so slightly but she stays still for the most part. Clarke may have withheld her touch for a bit too long though because a low whine escapes Anya which makes the wolf huff and quickly twitch to face away from Clarke.

 

“Hey, don’t be like that.” Clarke mumbles sleepily, the calmness radiating from the pair settling her down; she scratches the fine coat along Anya’s snout and grins when the wolf dips to let the fingers glide up the bridge of the nose. “You’re awfully sweet like this.”

 

Anya opens her mouth, carefully closing her teeth around Clarke’s fingers, nipping at them ever so gently.

 

“Yeah, you’re a big softy.” Clarke yawns, taking her hand back to cover her mouth. She feels safe, unlike the previous nights she now knows where she is and the situation of her pack. She has little trouble drifting to sleep between her two wolves. 

 

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

 

Clarke wakes to birds chirping a morning song; it’s unusual compared to the ever present hum of the Ark. The mechanical droning had seemed organic to her, making the soundless vacuum of space seem less infinite. Even with the sky barely lightening into daybreak she finds Lexa already gone but Anya still sleeping by her side in wolf form. She moves gingerly, the angle she had slept in had her arm settle oddly. She doesn’t want to wake Anya, but she’ll need to find her people and well, also a washroom.

 

She _really_ needs to find a washroom. Quite urgently.

 

She shifts from the bed, pulling the covers off her body and blanketing them over Anya. It’s a bit amusing to see the fierce warrior be tucked away, a fluffy tube of plush sheets rising and falling to steady breaths.

 

Clarke tries to close the door as quietly as possible and heads to the center of the village. There are already people busying about. Numerous guards patrol the outskirts of the grounds while citizens set up for the coming day. The smith’s forge is being relit but the anvil is left untouched until the sun has truly risen.

 

She watches a girl run, sprint as fast she can out a doorway before getting called back by her mother. She wants her daughter to take a young boy along for the day and the girl makes a huge fuss against it. Clarke may not know their language but she can understand the older kid’s wishes to be free. No one wanted to be in charge of the younger students in her class either. The girl’s vehement fighting makes the younger boy red in the face and tears to fall from his eyes. He rubs at them but it only makes a mess. The mother sighs and the girl quickly ducks down to pick him up and swings him around until he chokes up a giggle. She pulls a silly face and it makes his giggle turn into a tittering laugh.

 

Oh.

 

It reminds her of the antics between Bellamy and Octavia last night, the teasing interactions. Right, she feels foolish for thinking the two as classmates or friends. Their facial similarities can be easily noticed when she pays attention. The Grounders are of course permitted siblings. Population control wasn’t something this society has to limit. The environment alone seems to be doing a fine job at that.  
  
“A second child isn’t seen as a resource drain.”

 

Clarke turns to find Octavia watching the same scene; her eyes hold a reminiscing shine. “I guess we are all expendable, no matter where we are but at least here we aren’t found guilty and in confinement for just being born.”  

 

“Octavia…”

 

“It’s fine.” Octavia states, her tone dropping the matter. “You’re up awfully early.”

 

“I wanted to make sure you guys were alright and to see who was here and who returned to look after our camp.” Clarke bites her lip and jitters from foot to foot.

 

“And your big ol’ house doesn’t have facilities?” Octavia asks her eyebrow quirking up along with the corner of her lips into a smug smirk. “You’ve gotta go when you gotta go and you,” she points her finger like a gun at Clarke’s stomach, “have _gotta go_.”

 

“Okay, fine, ** _yes_** I have to pee,” Clarke throws up her uninjured arm, “are you happy?”

 

“Kinda, yeah.” Octavia’s gaze softens and she places a tentative hand on Clarke’s shoulder. “I heard what you did for us… for me and you’ve become our defacto Co-Chancellor with Bellamy at this point and I wanted to see you’re still human enough to get teased.”

 

Clarke sighs, grinning tiredly back at Octavia. “I’m not sure I want to be a leader.”

 

“Well you kinda already are,” she shrugs, “them the breaks kid.”

 

“O, I’m older than you.”

 

“Whatever, do you want to use our shared washroom or what?” Octavia throws her thumb over her shoulder and looks towards a large housing near what seems to be the training grounds.

 

Clarke stalks past her and focuses mostly on preventing herself from making a mad dash through town.


	7. Breaking Your Fast

Her people are fast asleep when she makes a cut through the barrack lodgings. Clarke takes an extra moment at the end of Charlotte’s bed. The girl is looking quite bruised but she doesn’t have a fever and the swelling in her body has all but faded. She’s relieved that Charlotte really was recovering. She had feared the others were all engaging a white lie for the benefit of her emotional state. 

She’ll speak to the others when they wake, it’s hardly been a handful of days, their injuries couldn’t have gotten much better though she’s feeling quite tempted to use her bandaged arm. They don’t have their technology here and no one to rely on so an alliance with the Grounders was their safest bet. 

Octavia is still smirking like a little idiot when Clarke exits the washrooms area and heads back outside. “Shut up.” 

“What, I haven’t even said anything.” 

Clarke squints her eyes at the girl and switches topics. “So tell me about your ‘tall dark and handsome’?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Octavia has the good graces to blush which makes Clarke know she can wheedle at the point further. 

“Oh yes you do, I saw you plastered against him like a metal panel at the fire pit like hours ago.” Clarke can’t exactly stare the other girl down since they were the same height but god damn at least she is at least eye level to O. “Wasn’t Atom running after you last time I checked?” 

“Weren’t the literal Queens of the Grounders going after you?” Octavia returns, smiling a shit eating grin underneath her blush. “Don’t you dare deny it; their scent is all over you.” 

“I’m sure.” Clarke smirks right back but while she can dish it as well as she can take it she’s certain it wouldn’t be wise to joke about something as serious as what had been purposed the night before. “Update me on everything I’ve missed.” 

The change in tone doesn’t faze Octavia; she takes Clarke’s serious demeanor in stride, sharing how Lexa brought a small army to the cave grounds. The Grounders had been decked for battle and had intimidated everyone still awake. After the rescue party had rounded everyone back to TonDC, help was soon sent with the able-bodied 100 back to the dropship while those in critical condition had been kept in the village. Bellamy was allowed to pick several wolves to accompany his injured within town and Wells had vehemently followed where Clarke was being taken. 

“Anya carried you the entire half day hike we took to TonDC while Lexa looked ready to kill whoever neared you two.” Octavia sounds wowed. “She could’ve just placed you on a stretcher but-”

Octavia stops her reveal and dips her head down respectfully when they exit the barrack grounds. Clarke looks to what has Octavia of all people bending to find Anya standing beside the open gateway, a hand on the pommel of her blade. 

“Good morning.” Octavia still has her head down. 

Anya places her palm against the back of Octavia’s neck and the Arker practically glows. Octavia gives another nod and when Anya turns, gives a mock salute to Clarke before heading back into the barracks. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen O bend so easily.” 

Anya hums noncommittally and heads back to the center of the village. Clarke follows; keeping pace at Anya’s left. The silence worries Clarke, perhaps her show of weakness wasn’t taken as well as she had perceived the night before. Maybe her suitors realized how weak the Arkers were compared to those on the ground and they’ve lost interest in her. What does an Omega have to offer these people? She and the rest of the Arkers are all under suppressants and are sterilized for at least several months. Certainly not her wolf which she doubts she’ll be able to shift into without a full moon. Maybe during today’s chief meeting they’ll find another Omega, someone that wasn’t conditioned by the Ark, someone who was a warrior, who deserved their interest more than she. 

Clarke tries to tell herself she wouldn’t mind. That an alliance could still be agreed upon even if they were no longer interested in her as a mate. That each quiet step didn’t hurt her more than whatever physical pain the Lerna had inflicted on her earlier. 

“Clarke.” 

She raises her head sharply at Anya’s call and finds the same softness she had seen last night. It’s hidden beneath black paint but Anya’s eyes are warm. 

“Yes, sorry, I didn’t quite catch what you were saying?” 

“I waited.” The words are just a whisper among the hustle and bustle of the awakening village. “So I could escort you to our dining halls for breakfast.” 

Anya tilts her head slightly, arms particularly stiff by her side as if she was straining to keep them from moving. 

Oh. 

Clarke already knew that neither Anya nor Lexa are particularly demonstrative in public and the pair have made it abundantly clear they will not push for her agreement. They certainly aren’t going to take any liberties with her or be overly forward. 

“Thank you for finding me,” she feels like an idiot for having such a panicky reaction, she steels her voice and tries to mimic the tough exterior both her Alpha and Beta exude, “will the meeting with the other clan leaders begin soon?” 

“Our clans have been gathered close.” A smile tilts just barely at Anya’s lips, she’s pleased. “They should be arriving shortly.” 

The quiet walk is by far easier now that she had some reassurance from Anya. That this woman was still the one that had been very willing to rise to her touch and had spent the entire night by Clarke’s side to ease her nerves. She had to respect their customs and adapt if she wants to make a good impression for their people. She doesn’t know the state of those at the dropship and she can’t know for certain if the aid given at the moment could still be taken away if the other clan leaders disagree with Lexa and Anya. 

They are about to enter a cemented longhouse, some of its brick walls have been eroded down to a bare rusted metal frame. Anya’s hand tightens around the hilt of her sword and she growls at an approaching Grounder. 

“Now, now Anya, we are of the same rank.” The male is broad, incredibly physically menacing and Clarke works to defiantly keep her gaze level at him instead of instinctively ducking away. “Why the hostilities?” 

“Stop attempting to take my unit members and you’ll find me reasonable.” 

“Give me my brother.” He growls, bringing their faces inches from one another. 

Anya snarls, she looks to one of the guards stationed at the doorway and then back at the man. “Choose your weapon.” 

The man takes the spear tied on his back and twirls it once in his hand. His face gnarled into something downright predatory. People are inching closer while merchants who were setup near the pair are quick to pack up their stands. 

“Drop your arms!” The dining hall doors slam open and the woman issuing the command has both the man and Anya obediently straightening from their battle stance. “Quint, your own brother does not want to be part of your unit, reflect on what you’ve done to cause this.” 

“Chief Indra, I only have my brother’s wellbeing in mind.” Quint explains, his features still feral. “Anya is not suited to lead my blood!” 

“Anya was willing to fight for a unit member that kept silent.” Indra indicates the guard Anya had looked to before drawing her weapon. “Do not let your unwillingness to be dominated hinder the unity of this clan.” 

“My brother-!”

“Choses to stay with Unit Leader Anya.” The guard from before removes his mask and drops it to the ground, he’s a perfect mirror to Quint in stature and ink markings. “You did not recognize me and yet you pick a fight with my Lead to reclaim me?” 

Quint looks stymied, let down by his own twin. “Your place is by my side, brother.” 

“I’ve already shamed our bloodline by not answering when you shouted for me; I almost made my Lead fight my battle.” The guard is looking every bit as venomous as Quint. “If you push I will shed your blood to ease this dishonour.” 

Quint roars, holding his ground until Indra takes a step which makes him back several. He reties his spear onto his back and stalks from the dining hall doors, stating his stomach uneasy with keeping communion with natrona. 

The guard doesn’t speak a word but bends knee to Anya, face to the dirt and neck bared. 

Anya sheaths her weapon and sets her hand on the man’s neck, she digs her nails in and he tilts closer to the ground. “Aerius, speak to your brother.”

Aerius appears hesitant but Indra barks for him to go. Aerius rises to his full height and with another bow to Anya heads off after his brother. 

The Chief turns to Clarke. “What punishment do Quint and Aerius deserve?” 

Clarke looks to Anya for help but the woman is stoic in front of the village chief. 

“Quint’s care on the matter is more than well meaning, he seems to find Unit Leader Anya’s reign over his brother as a control on him as well.” She gets that conviction is valued so she works to keep her voice from wavering. “I think letting Aerius stay in the unit he prefers sets a punishment Quint can’t recover from and Aerius I would leave to Anya’s mercies.” 

Indra shows neither approval nor disdain. She enters the heavy double doors and disappears into the building without another word. It was apparent that Grounders all minced their words and it wasn’t like there were many words said in the first place. 

Anya is smiling. With their backs to the village and the door as a divider from the hall, her fondness is much more open. “An acceptable answer.”

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The dining hall is bursting with those prepping for breakfast. The place is filled with lively banter as the people work around their clan in ease. The hall may be spacious but it’s still a sight to see so many maneuvering between one another in the tight alleyways of firm oaken tables. Clarke is used to the quiet mess halls and an orderly line up. The Ark’s mess halls seemed so uniformed compared to this. The furniture here, all tables and chairs collected from different eras and space. Pieces from varying times are mended together to hold up the bounty that was being readied for the coming Chieftains. The walls are donned with armor, weaponry and various art pieces that could very well be used as a weapon. Their ship’s walls were stark; least people thought they could deface public space with tags or damage what must be kept pristine for the future. 

Tables lining the walls are already filling with baskets of fruits, large pots of warm steaming oats and huge metal plates of what Clarke thinks has to be meat. 

Clarke has lived her whole life on tiny tubes of nutritional paste and their hunt of that rabbit certainly gave up nothing. Her stomach growls and she just wants to fill up like no tomorrow.

Anya chuckles from her side and Clarke has the good grace to blush. “There’s no real food in the Ark, not like this.” 

“You’re welcome to your take.” Anya gestures to the long table at the very back of the room where a throne of antlers and driftwood holds Lexa as the overseer of today’s event. “It’s still early; we could approach the Heda if you wish.” 

Heda is a title Clarke hasn’t heard before but the use of it makes clear that this interaction was a public one. Lexa and Anya both seem to be quite high in rank and she’s unsure how this clan was divided. Anya is clearly a leader of her own unit and Lexa had brought a group of her own to help the Arkers. Clarke would have presumed that Indra being ‘Chief’ would make her the prominent leader but the woman defers to Lexa. 

Indra is at Lexa’s side, discussing something with quick precision. She appears as an advisor which makes Clarke wonder exactly who her suitors were to their people. Octavia had been thorough with the details of the 100 and the help sent but she had said little on either Alpha or Beta. The girl had jokingly referred to Lexa and Anya as Queens but Clarke had assumed she exaggerated. 

Indra lifts her head to glare down at Clarke who momentarily has the silly want to hold Anya’s hand. She clasps her fingers behind her back to avoid just that as they close in on the main table. 

“Morning Heda.” Anya dips her head. 

Clarke mimics the move, but when she rises she can’t look away from Lexa. The lax way the Alpha is situated on the throne doesn’t diminish the sharp weapon twirling in her free hand. The casual but intimidating display has Clarke thinking of a video capture from class of a panther lounging on warmed stones. She tightens her clasped fingers and feels her face burn. She’s slightly aware she’s releasing Omega scents but she very well doesn’t know how to control them. 

Anya unconsciously takes a step closer to Clarke as she snarls at a passing cook who has frozen between Clarke and the table he was working to set. He looks more famished than Clarke had felt earlier. Anya’s Beta scents and warning has the man skittering stiffed legged and awkward back into a side door. Clarke will do well if she could just sink into the ground and disappear from this moment since Indra is particularly amused by her lack of self-control and Anya’s protectiveness. 

“Don’t flaunt your want to be dominated, Sky girl.” Indra notes as she rounds the table brushes past them. “The arriving Chieftains expect Skaikru’s leader not a mate beside their Alpha.” 

Well fuck; it’s not like Clarke knows how to control this whole ordeal. She had been strictly detained in her human state her whole life and it was just a handful of days ago that the strong moon had driven her pack onto all fours. The premature heat the moon had brought to her was left unanswered and she had been fighting for her pack’s livelihood the next instant. She can only thank her lucky stars that the throbbing incessant fire she had felt before seems to have dissipated for now. Though being around the Alpha and Beta all this time has certainly made spikes in her composure. She’s never been so thankful for the suppressants still flowing through her body. 

“A place has been made for you at the Skaikru’s table.” Lexa draws all of Clarke’s focus like a beacon. “You’re welcomed to sit with Anya and me but it might set things in motions you’ve not decided upon.” 

Clarke certainly didn’t want to be physically further than necessary, she’s gotten to bask in both Anya’s and Lexa’s presence in the privacy of their own house. The pair have such a reassuring force for Clarke to rely upon but if she’s going to be acting this way while the rest of the village came in or god forbid her own people to see her so swayed by Lexa it’ll do no one any good. She needs to inform the others what will soon be occurring and she’ll have to assert her place as Co-Chancellor with Bellamy if her people were to disagree. 

Clarke thanks Lexa for the offer and after receiving permission she is lead away by one of the servers. 

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The hall is brimming with people soon enough. All come to first give their Heda a greeting before turning to the tables packed with food. The village functions at a scheduled pace as first the young are given their share before the adults come in. Clarke can only guess that the guards currently patrolling had already had their fill. 

There’s an excited commotion when groups of people in unfamiliar gear enter through the open hall doors. They’re wearing clothing that range away from what this village has and bear markings dissimilar from the symbols Clarke has seen displayed around town. There are several distinct clusters and at their arrival the villagers cordially back to allow them first access to the feast at the tables. 

Some are shrouded in coarse layers of material, shifting as sands over their tanned dry skin. There are others baring netting and almost trident like spears on their backs. The last group have utilized the skin and bones of wild animals for their attire with whips coiled at their hips. Clarke watches keenly at Lexa’s greeting to each of the tribes approaching her throne but her welcome to them is equal and it gives Clarke little insight. 

The clan leaders take their spots beside Lexa while the people they’ve brought congress to the open seating in the tables closes to Lexa’s throne. The villagers of TonDC are between the Arkers and the leaders and Clarke takes these precious moments of anonymity to gage the people she’ll have to face soon. The Arkers may be easily identified from the Grounders but they’ve yet to find their leader. 

“Clarke.” Bellamy moves to sit next to her. 

He has to maneuver pass several seats before gaining the spot beside her. She’s placed her back against the wall with clear view to the door on their right and if she’s quite honest, she’s getting a reasonable excuse to stare where Lexa and Anya are seated across the room. 

“Bellamy.” She’s unsure where they stand; the last time they interacted it had been over Finn’s death and his threat on Wells. 

He seemed mild manner with his hair a messy mop on his head and his demeanor calmed by Octavia taking a chair next to him. “You saved my sister; we’re cool, you know what I had to do.” 

“You were desperate.” Clarke watches him, studies his passive posturing towards her, considering last time he was calling for leadership with their group of delinquents it’s a little surreal to see him like this. “It doesn’t excuse what you did, you could have killed Wells.” 

“I didn’t though.” His hand tightens into a fist but Octavia’s touch on his wrist makes him relax. “You’re right I…” he grits over his words, obviously having practiced them before, “I did not put everyone’s wellbeing at forefront and a lot of them died because of my lack in planning.” 

Bellamy looks to Clarke then back to Octavia with absolute conviction; Clarke knows he doesn’t regret his choice that no expense was too great for his need to protect his sibling. Though maybe he’ll see the costs to his calls and what he can wrought on their group. Bellamy could be a strong asset to them or an issue she’ll have to handle just to protect the Arkers they have left. Either destruction or redemption, Clarke can only hope his agreeability will remain.

“And a lot of people lived because of you, Clarke.” Wells joins their table, looking at Clarke for her approval. She gives him a nod and he practically glows. It’s like hating on a puppy that has only her wellbeing and opinions on his mind. The knot in Clarke’s chest loosens all the more. “Many look to you for how we continue.” 

Clarke hmmms, Wells confirmation of her leadership placement has her thinking. She rather discuss the whole situation with Bellamy before the meeting with the other clan leaders occur but there’s only one option for her people and that is the alliance Lexa offered but it’s not as if they have much to offer in return. If they had their technology they could be of some use. Though at the moment all they have is Monty’s expertise and maybe her medical knowledge. 

She doesn’t want to stress the others out at how uncertain their people’s fate is at the time being and focuses her attention to Wells overflowing plate. “Have enough for seconds?” 

“Hey, I’m still growing.” Wells shrugs good naturedly then stares hungrily down at his plate. “I mean its freaking bacon like in the old cooking vids, Clarke, real boar pig mutated bacon, it’s amazing.” 

“It’s fucking delicious Clarke,” Octavia joins in, hovering her face over her meal and taking a huge sniff, “I feel kinda bad that the rest of our group is missing out on this.” 

“Where is Atom and Murphy?” Clarke questions. 

“I sent Murphy back.” Bellamy says, his voice a bit hard when he faces Octavia. “This one got Atom going too.”

Octavia shrugs but her smile is all too pleased. “Lincoln offered to travel with Nyko and a group of helpers and Atom is having this whole ‘need to prove myself’ thing going on so off he went, its’ not on me that I’m so freaking irresistible.”

“Don’t toy with both an Arker’s and Grounder’s feelings, O.” Clarke chastised, the relations between their groups are already at the Grounder’s mercy, she doesn’t need Octavia inciting some Shakespeare nonsense as well. 

“Clarke, come on lay off.” Octavia leans an over the table, hand cupped over her lips. “Look I’m sorry I had some tiny moment of wanting fun, I’ve already chosen so you can chill out.” 

Clarke covers her eyes with her hands. Doesn’t Octavia get that no matter the choice at this point it’s going to cause some kind of political conundrum? She wants to wring the girl out for her tactlessness but Octavia is looking so sincere that Clarke holds her tongue. 

“I never answered Atom’s chase, he’s just super persistent.” Octavia sits back, shoulders moving into a shrug. “I’m not into him like that.” 

“You don’t need to be ‘into’ anyone,” Bellamy says, intense and overprotective, “no one should be into you at all you’re just a kid.” 

Octavia presses her lips together and gives her brother a ‘are you fucking serious’ sneer. “Lincoln can kick your ass Bell and yet every time you’ve come at him he’s just stood his ground at your little shows; he’s being more than reasonable.” 

Whatever the pair was going to go on about was cut short by the rhythmic banging of fists on the hall tables. With the entire place filled with people the noise generated is almost deafening. The Arkers routinely join in, probably having seen this occur over the days that Clarke was not present; she adds her sound into the cacophony filling the halls. 

There’s an abrupt cessation of movement as every single occupant turns their gaze to the throne; their intent obedience trained on the Alpha that commands them. Lexa stands with absolute confidence, certain in her place before her people. She holds one hand high up, a call for silence, her other is clenched around a bloodied mess of an organ Clarke can only surmise as the heart of the boar slain. 

Her Alpha, the Heda takes first bite and pulls away with blood on her sharp incisors and feral smile. “Commence the feast.”


	8. It Begins

If Clarke was being discreet in her ogling before she’s certainly not doing it now. Lexa is focused on the clan leaders beside her and hasn’t even attempted to clean the fresh blood from her mouth. She’s an image of ferocity and Clarke’s kinda screwed. Anya looks absolutely famished and Clarke is certain she has the same expression. Lexa turns ever so slightly; a movement shows her hand settling on Anya’s lap, whatever she’s doing isn’t lessening the Beta’s wild gaze.

 

The two then look to Clarke.

 

Clarke quivers, unable to keep from muttering an awed. “Fuck.”

 

Bellamy shoots up from his spot beside Clarke and growls, a rolling thunderous thing that has Wells standing and all of the Arkers looking incredibly uncomfortable.

 

“Bellamy.” Clarke clutches her hand onto his bicep. “You’re making a scene.”

 

Bellamy looks to the hand on his arm and then challengingly back up to the throne. Lexa is still physically quite poised in her seat but her eyes are livid with repressed rage. Anya looks ready to stand and come over but they’ve both given Clarke the choice in who she’ll allow to chase her but they had thought Bellamy was out of the question. Clarke realizes how this may look and drops her hold as if Bellamy’s skin has turned caustic.

 

Bellamy puts his hand on Clarke’s shoulder which makes her glare up at him like he’s gone insane but she can’t very well shrug him off when the entire front table has their attention on them. What did they think was happening? That there’s dissent in her group that she wasn’t able to control her own wolves? This whole thing is making their people look absurd.

 

“Bell, what are you doing?” Octavia’s voices, uncertain if she should intervene.

 

Bellamy’s grasp on Clarke’s shoulder tightens and she almost releases a cry. It’s her forearm that’s broken but it doesn’t mean the rest of her body isn’t still sore and abraded. This was going nowhere quick. She puts her free hand on the one he’s gripping into her shoulder and digs her nails in deep as she has seen Anya do to Aerius. “Bellamy, please sit down.”

 

“Sit. down.” Wells rumbles, his words disintegrating into a menacing growl. “Sit your ass down.”

 

Bellamy looks conflicted, his instincts telling him not to submit and Clarke’s earlier release of scents had him immediately receptive. He realizes the attention their table has gained but his ego isn’t letting him back down so quickly. His eyes dart around the room and Clarke takes his momentary indecision as her que to trench her nails deep enough to reach bone. So much for covert intelligence gathering. She has to make her stand now. Indra had told her the chiefs are expecting a leader so she’ll have to be one right this moment.

 

Bellamy squeals, unprepared for the aggression on Clarke’s end. Clarke tugs hard and the twist she applies in her grip has Bellamy careening down back into his seat. She hopes she hasn’t sprained his wrist but they’ll just have to add that to a long list of injuries they’ve all gained since arriving.

 

She stands while he’s still recovering and addresses the room. “Sorry for the disruption.”

 

Lexa graciously waves her hand in dismissal and turns back to the other chieftains, drawing their attention back to their conversation. Anya’s focus is however divided between the council people and making rather concerned eye contact over at Clarke to make sure she’s alright. Clarke wonders if the others even notice Anya’s behaviour or if she’s gotten more used to reading the subtleties in the Beta’s body language. 

 

The rest of the breakfast passes with Bellamy irately nursing his injured hand in his lap while the rest of the Arkers at the table respectfully drop gaze from Clarke when she speaks.

 

The second he’s done his food Bellamy makes for the door with Clarke taking after him just as quick. She signals Wells from following and she hopes he’ll hold Octavia from interfering as well. Bellamy is making strides towards the barracks where the Arkers had stayed before. She keeps up with him but he’s fuming the entire way there and yanks the doors open and tries to slam it close behind him.

 

“Bellamy.” She won’t let him, jamming her foot between the door and the frame before it can shut completely

 

“No.” He spins on her, determined and tense when she enters. “I get it, you don’t want my answer but, I just… You can’t just flood the space around you smelling like,” he points his finger at her chest and makes her back a step, “smelling like you want to get claimed and looking so freaking ready to get fucked only to expect me not to respond.”

 

“Fuck you Blake!” Clarke smacks his hand from her chest and glowers back at him, she’s a bit surprised at her own reaction since Ark regulations has her agreeing with him but Anya’s and Lexa’s reassurances from the night before are much more predominant. “I already said no and that should be enough, how much would it take for you to back off?! Would it be okay if I was already mated? If I was like this while my mates were away would you take advantage of their lack of presence?”

 

“Of course not!” He roars, looking ready to push her again to shut this line of questioning. “It’s not the same okay, I get where you going with this so don’t you dare bring up Octavia, if she rejected someone I would kill whoever still came for her, I get it okay but it’s just not the same.”

 

“It _is_ the same, you should respect my wishes because _I_ deserve your respect, I don’t have to be related to you to earn your fucking consideration.” She doesn’t know his character and can only hope he’ll keep himself in check. If not then she’ll fight with him until she gets his submission. Whatever it takes since they have to regroup immediately. “We don’t have time for your petty pity party; do you not understand why the other clan chiefs are in the village?”

 

“What?”

 

“Did you think we’ll just continue leeching off this community without cost? That slaying the Lerna didn’t have repercussions?”

 

“We killed a monster that had their own people what more could they possible hold against us?!” He’s fuming, his words at a deafening roar.

 

“It was guarding against something worst and I don’t even want to imagine what could be possibly worse than the thing that was slaughtering every one of us, but the Grounders _permitted_ it to live!” Clarke matches his ferocity, glaring up at his snarling face. “If Nyko didn’t have the antidote then Octavia would’ve died, you can’t just take everything they have given us for granted!”

 

“I’m NOT!”

 

“You **are** when you disrespect their customs or judge how they conduct themselves!” Clarke shoves her hand into his chest and he stumbles back in disbelief, he didn’t defer to her like when Wells willingly subsided under her hand, she had honestly surprised him yet again. His ego and instinct making him think she won’t defy his desires. “Do you think your snide comments haven’t been heard? They know our language so anything you and Murphy have gossiped about they’ve just let go cause you’re acting like children.” Octavia had brought this up with her and she had already thought to address it so why not bring up all grievances at once.

 

“That’s not… I mean they have kids training as-”

 

“That’s their prerogative!” Clarke thunders. “You can’t fucking take their hospitality and then raise your nose at their way of survival, we know nothing on this Earth and we _need them_ , we need the alliance.”

 

“Alliance?” Bellamy is utterly out of it now; he hadn’t heard of any such agreement, he had assumed what they had at the moment was going to keep.

 

“Wake up, do you know how fucked we are if the Grounders consider what we did to their guardian as a hostile act. We won’t just loose medical aid or whatever else they’ve given to us! Think about the consequences to our people if they consider that our group may be a threat to how they live.” She quiets her voice to a whisper, the shock of her own realization making her cold.

 

Bellamy watches her, studying the flux of emotions on her face with concern.

 

“According to Octavia, Lexa brought a small army,” she pauses, the uneasy words coming now that she can think through the ordeal, “and she could’ve brought her people to fight off a beast all the clans have agreed to let live,” Clarke stumbles, clenching her fingers tight as she forces the rest of her conclusion out, “or she could’ve been coming to annihilate those that invaded her territory.”

 

“Oh. Fuck.” Bellamy paces the room, hand tangling into his hair. “We just sent them to our wounded without thought, they know where our dropship is and they know-”

 

“We are at their mercies, Blake, and if they’ve already treated us like guest instead of prisoners we should hope that our people at the dropship are safe for the time being.”

 

“I shouldn’t have just given away our position.” He falls down onto a bed, head in his lap as he laces his fingers over the back of his neck. “Everyone was injured and it just felt like salvation came.”

 

Clarke tentatively puts her hand over Bellamy’s laced fingers, waits until he drops his hold and she has her touch against the bone ridge of his neck. “You did best with what you knew at the time, you sent help to our injured and we’re going to have work together to keep everyone else safe.”

 

He’s resigned now, realizing just how out of depth he was against the situation at hand. They don’t have their technology, they certainly don’t have the man power and the Grounders have been more than generous to all their needs. He shouldn’t have just expected that they deserved the aid they’ve so readily received.

 

“I don’t know what I’m doing either.” Clarke kneels down in front of him, fingers on his chin to tilt him into looking back at her. “I know you’re trying but being a leader is acting like one and we did not show ourselves in best light during breakfast.”

 

“Fuck.”

 

“Yeah, I know.” Clarke laughs and drops back, sitting on the wooden floors with a sigh. “We _are_ leading our people and there’s not that many of us left, we really don’t have room for error.”

 

He nods, demeanor serious now that he’s been cautioned by Clarke.

 

“I think their groups functions with a single leader instead of a counsel and you have to be aware that the other leaders all think they’ve been waiting to begin the meeting at my wakening, I’m not taking over completely but I’m going to need your support while we are in public, everything else I’m more than willing to leave to discussion.”  

 

“Ha.” Bellamy rubs his palms into his eyes, the strain of everything weighing on him, and he can only make penance by keeping those left alive safe. “I know you rescued us,” he holds up his hand to stall Clarke’s modest denial, “we weren’t making any ground without the fuel and fire and I would’ve thrown each and every one of us in until I got to my sister, you saved us and the others know that, they’ll follow you with or without me on your side.”

 

“I’m not asking for your support just for niceties, Bellamy, I need people I can depend on and our people look up to you, I’ll need your sway.” She reaches out and beams when he takes her hand.

 

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

 

When they exit the barracks they see that the Arkers at the breakfast are all in the training grounds but the Grounders are suspiciously absent.

 

Clarke and Bellamy both agreed silence on what could have been massacre on the beach, there’s no need to stir up antagonism between the remaining 100 and the Grounders. They will tell the Arkers of the gracious hospitality they’ve found in TonDC and if an alliance is achieved everyone will adhere to the rules set out. They both surmised at their people’s amenability considering Nyko and others having been sent to the injured. Clarke can only hope that everyone there really was present to aid and not as a backup plan to execute the remaining 100 if things went sour in TonDC.

 

Clarke has Bellamy arrange for their remaining people to travel back and prepare their dropship. The injured Arkers have all regained enough movement to make it back to camp. She’s sure it has to do with her wolf side awakening since her own arm feels almost healed and considering that she may had had comminuted fractures that would’ve taken at least 3 weeks to fully mend. If the alliance isn’t agreed upon then they’ll prep their camp. If questioned on their defensive action then Clarke has already thought to site the other local fauna as a worry to her people’s safety. Lexa and Anya have assured her that the meeting will go according to plan but Clarke has her pack’s lives on her shoulders and she will manage every possible circumstance.

 

It had been agreed that Bellamy and Wells will remain while Octavia will lead everyone back. It’ll be at least two days of traveling with the speed that they’ll make. There’s some worried disagreement among the healing but Clarke and Bellamy had stood firm together and reassured everyone that their pack should remain whole at the dropship. It was strangely reassuring to find that their people were mostly worried for their wellbeing and not at leaving the safety of TonDC. They hadn’t want to abandon Clarke unprotected and while the notion was appreciated she doubts her untrained group could do much against the Grounder army.

 

Clarke’s exhausted when they’ve finally hashed out all the details. The others head out before the meeting begins, the goodbyes short. Octavia lets Bellamy grip onto her like he’ll never see her again and she teases him on it but soon drops the cheer when she notices his solemn expression. Octavia can turn off her playfulness but Bellamy’s modus of operation is trained into him by the Ark’s security forces. Clarke hopes she doesn’t notice his more than usual stiffness but he’s like his sister or his sister is like him, they both roll with the punches and are quick as a whip with their instincts. Octavia knows something is off and Clarke can only ask for her trust and secure a promise from her to follow Lincoln’s trail to the dropship.

 

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

 

Clarke is flanked by Bellamy and Wells as they make their out the training grounds and back towards the village square, at the wooden gates they find an aggravated Anya glaring at Bellamy. Clarke motions for the boys to wait and asks them to meet up with her later.

 

Wells is reluctant to leave as always while Bellamy takes one look and makes a quick get away from Anya’s ire.

 

“Clarke.” Anya greets softly.

 

They are the only two here, Clarke’s people scrambling out of the village with what little they have to pack. “I’m guessing you had something to do with clearing the Grounders from hearing us yelling at one another.”

 

“There are many visiting.” Anya does something close to a shrug. “Our banquet halls require a hunt to provide the meat we’ll need.”

 

Clarkes pretty sure that the 3, 4 days she was out like a light was time enough for the village’s skilled hunters to supply food so Anya was just looking out for her. Her heart flutters at the thought but she reigns herself in. She has to know though, she wants to irrationally fault them if her hunch was true but she wants to hear Anya admit it. “Was Lexa bringing her army to kill us for what we’ve done?”

 

“You had broken the law.” Anya’s softness is gone, a mask of impassivity slipping on. “Gustus advised for it.”

 

Clarke feels her heart squeeze. She gets it. She does but an unreasonable kind of irritation sets up in her mind. Why hadn’t they told her? Would they have taken her into their bond and never mentioned this if she hadn’t figured it out. They certainly hadn’t worked to hide it and Anya was being truthful now but still. Clarke crosses her arm, feeling like she had to protect herself against her own suitor.

 

“We did **not** heed his advice.” Anya’s voice is steady, firm.

 

“And I should just be thankful you didn’t annihilate every one of the Skaikru?” Clarke glares askance at Anya.

 

“Under Lexa’s order, y _ou_ would have been spared.” Anya’s irritation is rising at Clarke’s suspicious tone. “That was in the past and there’s no time to discuss it now, the meeting will begin soon.”

 

“You think I would’ve been amendable if my people had perished?” Clarke growls, stalking forward until Anya’s hand holds against Clarke’s hipbone.

 

Anya narrows her eyes at Clarke’s bold actions and looks over her shoulder to make sure no one was present, when she’s sure they are still alone she drops her hand from Clarke and backs until she’s leaning against the wooden post of the wall. “You can’t hold us accountable for what did not occur.”

 

“I can!” Clarke approaches again. She almost wants to say _she will_ but she pretty much only has Lexa and Anya on her peoples… no _her_ side so she can’t exactly burn bridges but she’s livid over this. “Don’t you get what I’m feeling?”

 

This time Anya sighs and averts her gaze when Clarke is practically right against her. “Clarke, I don’t know what you want me to do.”

 

“I don’t either,” with a sigh Clarke backs off slowly, turning towards the barracks, “I’ll grab Bellamy and Wells then we can go to the meeting.”

 

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

 

Anya leads them towards a small concrete hut. Clarke watches the other chiefs enter with their people; she can only assume this led to a basement dwelling. This must be where the meeting will be held.

 

Lexa nods to Gustus and Indra, both going in without another word to let Lexa welcome them alone. Everyone else has already headed in by the time they make it. There’s still a village around them but Lexa watches them approach with just a hint of pleasure on her face. “Clarke of the sky people has honoured us with her presence.”

 

“I’m sorry I’m late, _Heda_.” Clarke scowls as she spits extra emphasis on the title, she knows Lexa has no idea of the mood she’s been placed in which only infuriates her more.

 

Lexa’s brows raise, she’s taken aback by the sour tone of Clarke’s voice. Her eyes glance to Anya and Clarke can feel the Beta subtly shake her head to deter any more questioning. 

 

The boys flanking Clarke are equally confused at the sudden hostility. Bellamy leans forward to remind Clarke of the stakes of the meeting and what she herself has just shared with him. She waves him off and confirms she’s aware. She won’t disrespect Heda Lexa or Unit Leader Anya but she can very well get away with being a tad spiteful at her suitors.

 

Clarke marches pass the stunned Alpha and glares at the tall guard at the door. He looks to Lexa for permission and when he receives it backs away and lets Clarke yank the door open for the Grounders to enter before following.


	9. The Meeting

The stairway is barely lit, the only light source coming from the outline of a door at the very bottom. The stairway isn’t very tight but the lack of light makes the space tighten around them, if Clarke was claustrophobic she’s sure this place would have set her off. Clarke gives extra effort to grasp at the railing leading down least she slips and falls onto the pair in front of her. With only the boys behind them both Lexa and Anya do little to hide their turning back to make sure Clarke is fine. Lexa is trying to gauge exactly what has occurred to make Clarke so aggressive while Anya is adamantly avoiding the Alpha’s gaze.

 

After the stairs the doorway opens into a room saturated with incense and the fresh squeeze of citrus. It’s decorated similarly to the dining hall. Armor and weapon line the walls once again but there’s less natural light and more dependency on fire glow. Orange candles settle all around the enclosed space. Fresh candles stand in divots made in old dulled white wax, there’s a merging of colours; the older candle stubs peek from underneath the bright orange.  Some cast their glow atop the blackened chandelier above; wax cakes the rusted metal holders overflowing to reach down at the occupants around the table. Clan leaders are standing along an aged wooden table, their clansmen situated behind them. Clarke takes the free spot at the far end of the table and the boys move to mimic how the other guards stand.

 

Lexa takes to her spot directly across from Clarke; she nods to the others and takes her seat last.

 

“We are gathered here today to discuss the guardian of the Maunon’s tunnel,” Lexa’s voice is steady, gentle even but the counsel is attentive to her words, “while the Skaikru has slayed the guardian they’ve also destroyed the caves and tunnel network that leads into our lands, we’ve always kept away from the Lerna’s territory to ensure its continued protection but the Skaikru has given us a safer alternative. It is fair for us to allow these people an alliance with us, to permit them to stay where their camp is already settled and allowed trade if wanted.”

 

“I Luna, Chieftain of the Boat Clan do not see any issue with this.” The woman voices, she offers a nod to Clarke. “There were laws permitting interference with the beast to prevent the Maunon gaining access but the Skaikru have taken away the passage and made the inlet road much safer, it was a known that the tunnels drove all the way into our seas and the Lerna’s death saves our fishing hatcheries, you have my people’s thanks and agreement.”

 

Clarke gives a tight smile back. Luna’s hair is russet but ever so slightly there are colours as fiery as the sun, the tresses are held in a wild ponytail, the bundle is loose though and lets her hair span out and over her shoulders. There’s just a bit of a smile creasing her strong eyes. Her clothing over her armor consists of netting and different bands of material circle her tanned scarred arms. She’s seated to the left of Lexa while Indra is on her right and Anya stands with Gustus a step behind Lexa’s shoulder.

 

“The Wood’s Clan had already sent our own to save our best healer and it was with the aid of the Skaikru that permitted the rescue of my medic and my Unit Leader’s second,” Indra gives a slow nod, “I Indra, Chieftain of the Wood’s Clan agree to this alliance.”

 

The man donning a wolf’s scalp and fur hums. He looks to Lexa then to the others and then finally to Clarke. His stare is unwavering and while Clarke swallows nervously she makes herself keep the gaze. He chortles at Clarke’s effort which has both Wells and Bellamy glaring on the Omega’s behalf.

 

“I loose nothing from this exchange, I Baron, Chieftain of the Plains agrees to this alliance.” 

 

Lexa shifts her focus to the last group. They’ve been silent this entire meeting. Still while watching everyone say their piece. The coarse material around their bodies shifts as the clan leader sitting leans forward, there’s so many layers that Clarke didn’t realize it was a woman until they spoke. “Aren’t we so agreeable, has Heda spoken to you beforehand, Luna, Baron, has she swayed your decision making.”

 

“Tian, speak true instead of dancing around your accusations.” Indra growls, leaning back into her seat and eyes growing cold.

 

“This whole meeting seems to be a farce, gathering us here while our Heda already has full intent to spare the Skaikru that dress more like Maunon than our own people.” Tian yanks free from her cowl, her skin is sand worn, and aged before her time but her murky eyes are clear with judgement. “It doesn’t seem like my vote even matters here.”

 

“The Maunon do not dress as they do, the Skaikru show their faces while those that capture us cower behind behind steel.” Anya states.

 

“Technicalities brought up to protect this outsider.”

 

“You’ve used technicalities to support your preposterous allegations, you were allowed into this meeting because you requested it.” Lexa’s tone is cautioning. “The tunnels did not jeopardize your land, what peace we broker with the Skaikru can remain in these valleys if it so troubles you.”

 

“My people wish for a voice, will you silence it?” Tian stands, baring her teeth at Clarke. “How do you know she isn’t a spy for the Maunon, that she didn’t fabricate her tale of falling from the skies, it sounds a lucky coincidence that you found them fighting the Lerna, perhaps they were trying to permit the Maunon greater access to these valleys.”

 

Clarke tightens her grip into her armrest. She has to wait for the correct moment to intrude, Lexa is speaking now and the best she can do is give her attention and support for the figure defending her people.

 

“I saw them fall from the skies; my word on the matter is proof enough.” Lexa’s tone leaves no room for argument, she watches Tian till the woman ducks down. “And who in the valleys can deny the comet crash several days ago, need I explain such basic concepts to you.

 

The room is tense. Of the Chieftains, Luna and Indra are infuriated with Tian’s allegations. Baron looks amused at this whole affair. He scratches at his bearded mouth to hide his expression.  

 

It’s an short impasse.

 

The door to the stairs creak open, revealing several soldiers in thick white blue fur. They force their way into the tight room, slamming the ends of their spears into the ground in unison to announce another scarred man’s entrance.

 

“Awfully convenient, you all started without Azgeda present.” His eyes sharp and assessing, his predatory focus lands on Clarke. He seems to recognize her though she hasn’t a clue who this man was.

 

Lexa recognizes the ambassador of the Ice Nation, she snarls, the soldiers’ presence having already brought several of the leaders and their guards standing, weapons drawn. “You are **_not_** welcomed here.”

 

A woman comes through last and strides up to Clarke, bringing her scarred face right up against the Omega’s. Clarke whips her head around to glare at the sudden arrival, baring her teeth. This woman was intent on violence, her scent piercing and abrasive. It’s a forceful odour, pungent in hunger for carnage. The man had been overly inquisitive but this woman has the hair on the back of Clarke’s neck raising.

 

Wells immediately pushes his arm in the woman’s way, blocking her from Clarke.

 

The woman sneers up at the Beta male and then focuses back at Clarke. “Were you trying to keep her from us?”

 

“The Ice Nation has no right to take part in this meeting; the Lerna is not your concern.” Lexa wraps her hand around the hilt of her sword. “Leave, now.”

 

“I think not.” The man states, arms crossed and his smile incredibly smug. “It’s lucky we were to hear of this Omega, were you intentionally thinking of keeping her to yourself?”

 

The rest of the room look a mixture of surprised and intrigued while Lexa is becoming more and more irate, she takes a breath. “You were already in my territory or you would’ve never made it into my village so quickly, does your Queen so casually break my rules to sanction the taste of my steel?”

 

“Our Queen is wise; she also thought it convenient that you took a Beta general as a mate, for someone so enamored by the idea of unity among the clans.” The Ice Nation woman smirks as she draws Lexa’s attention back to her and not the man; she’s prowling just behind Clarke and making the boys snarl. “You would’ve thought a Heda like yourself would’ve sought a citizen of the arts.”

 

“You will hold your tongue.” Gustus snarls, sword out as he approaches. “Your people are the reason Costia was lost to us!”

 

“Tsch tsch, testy bunch,” the woman moves to draw closer to Clarke, her fingers just short of the chair’s back but both Bellamy and Wells step in her way with their teeth bared, “feigning as the wronged when it was you who filled this place with citrus candles and scent muting incense.”

 

“Ontari.” The man orders, he’s tensing, knowing that they were on thin ice.  

 

Ontari brings herself before Lexa’s seat; she drops to her knees and bows down her head. Her neck is exposed but Clarke gleams now that Lexa has to step close enough to place a hand on the supplicant. It’s an act of submission and return of favour and trust from the Alpha. Though Lexa can very well just dismiss Ontari.

 

Ontari seems to know this just as well. Her actions have stalled any quarrels in the room. They all watch their Alpha’s interaction with the intruder. The woman rolls her eyes up expectantly at Lexa, challenging the Alpha. If Lexa refuses to touch Ontari then she’ll be called a coward if Lexa does give touch then Ontari will be permitted to remain for the time being. Lexa settles her palm against the woman’s neck. There’s a subtle tremor in the Alpha’s hand, showing just how much restraint she’s using to refrain from killing the woman.  

 

“You dare concern yourself with my choice in a mate,” Lexa is at her harshest, body taunt as she flings Ontari onto her side, “after what your people have done and yet have been allowed into my Coalition.”

 

“You are a coward for not avenging your dead.” Ontari fights back, crouched and snarling from her place on the ground. “You only allowed us in after implementing your laws over us!”

 

“Respecting the Chase of our people and funeral rites of those you capture is not an inhuman price to pay!” Anya joins in, standing by Lexa’s side over the intruder.

 

“Those are the kind of words I’ll expect from someone in fertile soils and warm shores.” Ontari pushes herself up from the floor, looking straight into Lexa’s eyes. “While my people are station in the frozen tundra wastelands.”

 

“You are welcomed to trade with the neighbouring clans, just not threaten and steal with the army your nation continues to build,” Lexa snarls down, glaring right back at the Azgeda wolf, “or does it not quench the same thirst as murdering and looting from the southern boarder’s caravans of the leaders we have in this room today?”

 

The man from the Ice Nation sees them losing the crowd, the Chieftains quick to rally against Ontari’s disturbance. They’ll stand against what the Ice Nation has always been trained to commit just to survive. “What of the Omega you attempt to hide from us?”

 

“Like the Lerna,” Lexa whips her attention to him and then at Clarke, “she’s not of your concern.”

 

“It’s not our concern that you bring her in your garb, shrouded with your Alpha and Beta scents and then into this room so heavily scented?” Ontari questions full of contempt. “Was it to disguise her from us, to hide her from our customs?”

 

“Skaikru will be accepted into an Alliance held with the southern tribes, _our_ customs will be respected, you will not attempt to uphold the Ice Nations’ coercion of a bride.”

 

“You judge so openly on what we’ve done as a nation to bring up the strong and wean the weak, yet you’ll not respect the rest of the tribes to even allow them a right to the Omega.” Ontari stands an inch from Lexa, posture stiff and uncompromising. “Omegas are notorious for passing on the Natblida trait, perhaps you want to keep the Heda’s position within your own blood, amass power over the tribes you enslave?”

 

“You’ve abused your own people, not bolstered those of strength.” Lexa steels herself. She draws back even as her hand tightens on her sword. She wouldn’t want her children to shoulder the burden of being a Natblida. She would rather not have them pay such a heavy cost from their own person but they’ll still assume their place if the spirits had blessed them. That was the expectation of those of her blood; they’ll bleed for their people so they are the only ones that need to.  

 

“Were you really only going to grant these intruders an Alliance or were you going to claim the Omega then take the Skaikru into your Coalition after you’ve already prevented other clan’s customs to be upheld?” The man moves to Ontari’s side, tugging her away to a safer distance. “You’re Heda and you are forbidden from such an act, the Ice Nation will see it as ignition fir war.”

 

“You’re letting these undeserving Skaikru spread as petulance into your lands without any of our consent and yet all but banished the Azgeda.” Tian speaks, hands waving to the Azgeda present.

 

“Those in these valleys have given their say and they agree to this Alliance, you’re taking too firm a stand for another’s nations’ wellbeing,” Lexa raises her brow at the Desert Chief, her tone acerbic, “does their flourishing enables yours as well?”

 

Ontari growls boldly, bringing herself as focus yet again, “if she wants to join your Alliance, fine, but her blood will be drawn if she ever steps foot from these valleys, your land is vast, Lexa, it’ll be unfortunate but these strangers _will_ get themselves lost and then their lives are forfeit,” there’s pure venom dripping with each word, “if they join the Coalition then you can expect my petition for her hand, your people may treat the chase as a ceremony but an Omega has a place and their place is-”

 

Clarke slams her palm onto the wooden table, drawing the attention of the room. “The Omega can speak for herself.”

 

Clarke looks to Lexa and after a receiving a nod she continues. “None of my people will be spreading like you so worry,” she takes a steadying breath; “we’ve all been sterilized, given doses to prevent reproduction.”

 

It’s not technically a lie. They’ve all still got months of sterility from the last inoculation. Clarke would do about anything to get this vicious woman away from jeopardizing today’s meeting. She had been weary to bring this up with her suitors before. She didn’t want them to think her different and she can understand how important the next generation is to people surviving in such a hostile environment but honestly what was with everyone on such a tilt to make reproduction a biological imperative. Clarke glances at her Alpha and Beta but find their faces troublingly blank.

 

“What use are you if you can’t fulfill a basic duty?” Ontari takes a look at Lexa and Anya and then cackles. “What can your people possibly have to ever make it reasonable for an entry into the Coalition?”

 

Clarke turns to Bellamy and Wells; they’re both drawing up empty. They’ve got no technology or people and only very limited knowledge. “What little we have to our disposal we still defeated the Lerna that has threatened these lands, we’ve gained considerations for an alliance and we can prove ourselves later for the Coalition.”

 

“You pathetic goufa got lucky killing a guardian against a bigger threat.” Ontari snarls and steps menacingly towards Clarke. “If we wanted to kill it, we could of but it was against the law of the valley, a law that you should bleed for breaking.”

 

Clarke is thinking on her feet. “Then let us help you take down this bigger threat, the Maunon you all fear so greatly, if you compare us to them, is it because they have technology _you_ can’t handle?”

 

“The Azgeda can handle everything the Maunon throws at us; it’s Heda’s weakness that holds us back.” Ontari stiffens, knowing instantly she had gone too far.

 

The Azgeda guards that had followed in tighten their ranks around Ontari and the Ambassador practically crawls before Lexa, his tone completely pliant. “She’s young, stupid and brash, pardon her and our intrusion in today’s meeting, we only wanted to push for the destruction of the Maunon,” he’s stuttering over his words, knowing that Ontari’s questioning of Lexa’s ability will lead to a challenge and he cannot let Ontari fall, if she dies while under his charge so does his entire family line, “we’re only bringing our Queen’s concern for your wellbeing and the Coalitions objectives.”

 

“Shof op.” Lexa is cold, side stepping around him and facing the warriors surrounding a bristling Ontari. “You challenge my authority; I accept your death.”

 

“Move aside!” Gustus grabs at the Ice Nation warriors but they all stand firm. “Move aside for your Heda!”

 

“We answer to our Azplana.” The men say in unison, shields ready and spears drawn.

 

Gustus swing at the Ice Nation guards so willing to die to protect their own from their Queen’s wrath. They fear the Queen more than Heda, Heda does not hold their family members captive. If they die here but allow Ontari to escape then their families will be provided for. The Ice Nation sigil never more accurate; an open palm holds them all captive, their lives forfeit at the benevolence of their Queen’s looming grip.

 

The fighting that ensues is immediate and deadly, within the first moments several hit the ground.

 

Anya and Indra rush to fall in step with Lexa’s personal guard, a hazardous dance of blows enrage in the confining space, metal against metal as the combatants take inch of ground from one another. The Chieftains draw their own weapons, intent on killing those with so little regard for honour, to intrude and then disobey Heda. The Ice Nation guards are falling quickly, outnumbered and surrounded.

 

Lexa bends almost completely backwards to avoid an Azgeda spear from taking her head. She tucks and rolls over the table, landing with her sword drawn and coming up to block the swing aimed at Clarke. Lexa shoves the boys back, ordering them to protect Clarke as she hurdles into the Ice Nation Ambassador. Lexa intercepts the tackle aimed at Clarke but loses her sword. She uses her momentum to let her land on top of the larger man and brings out the knife strapped to her thigh; she jams the weapon straight into the Ambassador’s chest then drags up to his throat in a clean stroke.

 

A spray of bright red splatters up into the jostling bodies but it only makes the remaining Ice Nation guards try harder to give Ontari time. The girl is caught between the Desert Clan Chieftain and the door but the Chieftain drops her stance to let Ontari pass only to get claws slicing through her jugular. Tian crumples to the ground which incites the desert people into the fray.

 

Lexa roars at this betrayal and sees Ontari sprinting towards the stairs; she’s quick to imbed a knife into Ontari’s forearm when the girl attempts to deal a killing blow to a Trikru guard who was just entering. Ontari snarls, slamming pass the people coming in, body changing in mid jump as she tears her way up the stairs in wolf form.

 

Indra, Luna, Anya and Gustus push after her, shredding through their own clothing in their haste but some of their armor remain as they race up the stairs. The Azgeda girl running from them had only worn animal skin, easy to shred and without much hindrance to her flight. There’s a commotion of sounds, crashing and screams as the Trikru wolves call their own people on the hunt.

 

The commotion brings more guards into the meeting room who immediately surround their Heda but she waves them off. She moves stiffly pass the boys and stands in front of Clarke.

 

Clarke is in trembling in shock, everything had happen all so quickly. The sword that had come inches from her head, Lexa blocking the killing blow and then the boys dragging her into the corner, shielding her with their own bodies. It was only moments until the fighting stopped and the hunt after Ontari began.

 

The floor closes to the door is sopping with blood.

 

Lexa takes Clarke’s face into her calloused hands, calling her name. Lexa is attentive before her, drenched in red but so keenly making sure Clarke was the one that was okay. It could have been Lexa on the ground, could have been her blood on the Azgeda’s weapon. It has certainly happened before; the Ice Nation had taken someone the Trikru had known, a Costia whose name had caused the mask on Lexa’s face to crack.

 

Lexa could have died and Clarke’s last interaction with either Alpha or Beta had been one short with malice.

 

Clarke throws herself forward, wrapping her good arm around Lexa’s neck while the one in the sling presses between their bodies. Lexa dismisses her guards to take leave and dispose the bodies, telling them to escort the remaining people from the room.

 

Bellamy and Wells are reluctant to go but are tugged away by the Trikru guards.

 

“You could’ve died.” Clarke is trembling, the unspent adrenaline from the fight unable to work its way through her body. “I was ready for the Lerna I was ready to fight a monster but… you could’ve died.”

 

“My spirit is still here,” Lexa puts a hand around the back of Clarke’s neck, “I’m still here.”

 

“I couldn’t even help I just stood there.” Clarke is shaking, her breathing erratic.

 

“I’ve seen your people Clarke,” Lexa has a lilt of humour in her words, “warriors you’re not.”

 

“But I… I just watched.” She tucks close, pressing into Lexa’s neck and taking deep breathes.

 

“You may be a target now, the Ambassador knew to go for you,” Lexa brings up her free hand and strokes it through Clarke’s hair, “you’ll be given guards.”

 

“You still want me… after what I told Ontari?”

 

“Clarke,” Lexa’s voice is impossibly gentle, “nothing can change this between us.”

 

There’s a commotion at the stairs as a dark golden brown wolf bursts into the room. Anya circles around Lexa and Clarke, whining and nudging her body into the pair. Clarke finally feels something unwind; her already slowing breath eases as she unwraps from Lexa and burls her face into Anya’s scruff.

 

Lexa lets her hand settle on the small of Clarke’s back. “Everything will be fine.”

 

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

 

Anya eventually lies aligned to the small clean corner left in the meeting room, letting Clarke curl into her side.

 

Where Lexa’s wolf form could easily drag down a horse Anya is much smaller by comparison. Though every Grounder’s wolf form was huge when Clarke thinks about how slight the 100 had all appeared. She’s certain they are heads above a natural wolf but they are dwarfed by those that have survived on a radioactive Earth. Clarke scratches her hand under Anya’s chin, finding a smile on her face when the she-wolf tilts up to give more access and actually closes her eyes in pleasure. Lexa sits next to them, facing the door and keeping the Omega protected between their bodies.

 

“Is the Alliance okay?” Clarke mumbles, having finally calmed.

 

“The Chieftains that matter have already voted and agreed, the Skaikru will be allowed to stay.”

 

“Are you really assigning me guards?” Clarke buries her face into Anya’s fur. “Can’t my people just get training now?”

 

“Either Anya or I would train you personally but no matter what you’ll travel with guards from now on.” Lexa places her hand behind Clarke’s neck to stall the coming argument. “It’s not about allowing our Chase, it’s about keeping you safe, you’ve already been made a target and I…”

 

Anya whines, shuffling up a bit to force Clarke to look up at them.

 

“I risk Anya daily with her by my side in battle and I’ve already lost Costia.” Lexa stands, exceedingly firm as she goes up the stairs. _I won’t lose you too._

Every time something emotional is reveal, Lexa disappears. Either turning into her mute wolf form or leaving the room. Clarke wonders how often Lexa has had her heart broken to make opening up hurt so deeply. She carries all this pain and yet still allows herself to care for Anya and chance on Clarke.

 

Anya yips, turning her big head over to lick at Clarke’s jaw.

 

“I only seem to give you two troubles.”

 

Anya’s tail wags as she stands, nudging into Clarke and positioning the Omega for the stairs. When Clarke is turned she hears the crunch of bones aligning back into human shape and she’s never been so sorely tempted to look back.

 

“I’ll be up; I just need to put on what’s left of my armor.”

 

Clarke stands motionless before the door, her hand on the handle. She’s been plaster against Anya for the better part of 15 minutes and had no issue running her hands rather presumptuously all over the Beta’s wolf form. Would it be so bad for her to turn and look at her suitor, wouldn’t it be welcomed? But she doesn’t have time to entertain her own Chase, she has people to lead and she can’t get distracted by her wants.

 

Anya can sense Clarke’s interest but doesn’t push, doesn’t shuffle around the room to find her clothes.

 

They are just frozen in their spots as Clarke flickers between turning and embracing Anya or storming up the stairs for some fresh air.  

 

Clarke can hear someone about to come down and quickly exits the room, pulling the door shut behind her to give Anya some privacy even though the Grounders don’t have the same reserve about nudity. She rather no one saw Anya like this. She rather it remains hers and Lexa’s privilege alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am going camping this weekend so a two week lag till the next update. I made this chapters extra long to make up for it! Cheers!


	10. Against the Tides

It’s a Trikru guard waiting on the slope of the stairs. He stands pressed to the wall, waiting for Clarke to ascend. 

“Anya will be out shortly if you’re waiting for her.”

The man shakes his head. 

“Alright, uh, I’ll just squeeze through then.” Clarke motions to move and the man starts going up before her. 

When they make it outside he stands just next to her as she tries to find her bearings. The hunt for Ontari is still on. Guards are being sorted into patrols throughout the village while others are readying to track through the forest. 

She’ll have to find Bellamy and Wells and tell them the news of the alliance and maybe start heading back to the dropship. They’ll need her there to explain everything that has and will be happening which means she’ll have to get more information of the threat from the Maunon. 

She also has to check in on Monty and see if he has had any progress with establishing communications with the Ark. She had asked him to do it as almost an afterthought when she had ran for the Lerna caves but now that her people are safe her main priority has to be contact. 

The Chancellor needs to know that Earth was habitable. If not there may be others that will be jettisoned from the Ark to preserve the dwindling oxygen supply. If the chancellors won’t come to see reason then she’ll have to convince someone up there to send out the message her father had left behind. There are copies of the video, a backlog that she managed to save before they wiped everything. She had never dared to watch it on the Ark but just knowing that there was some reminder of her father’s sacrifice existed had made her stay in her cell bearable. 

She’ll need to facilitate everything at her camp to make sure they actually build something livable here until the Ark touched down, her people and pack needs her at the drop ship but Lexa and Anya are here. 

Clarke sighs. 

There’s a lot to be done and there’s two forces that are tempting her to remain idle, to just have a moment to sort out her personal situation. 

Wells rushes to her as she exits but is intercepted by ‘giant and brooding’. The Grounder holds out his arm and the Beta practically bounces off from it. Bellamy who had come up with Wells takes this as an aggressive act and starts to crouch but Clarke moves between them. 

“We have to act as leaders.” 

Bellamy straightens, his fangs covered by a tight frown. “We just got yanked out and didn’t know if you were going to be okay.” 

“We were worried,” Wells is rubbing a palm against his chest and looks at the Grounder, “though it seems like you have a guard now.”

The Grounder doesn’t say a word and he really doesn’t need to. He has a hand casually sitting on his sword as if his immense height and size weren’t enough. 

“Yeah, guess I do.” 

Lexa had been very firm about her getting protection so she should have expected it to be instant, “it got a kind of intense down there, the alliance is in good standing at the moment but we have to return to the dropship, I have to speak to Monty and there’s something I’ll announce to everyone when we return.” 

“We’re still going?” Bellamy looks over to where Lexa is standing. “I would’ve thought you’ll want us all to stay here now.” 

He’s not being malicious just still jilted at being rejected; he can smell their scents on her. 

“You know we’ll overstay our welcome, best we go now and our pack needs us.” 

Bellamy looks less aggrieved at the mention of their people. “It’s really ours isn’t it, not just a group of delinquents but they are our pack, our wolves.” 

Clarke nods. “You sure you don’t mind shifting some say to me.” 

“The people will choose you.” Bellamy smiles, it’s crooked but Clarke finds relief in it. “I choose you too; I’m second to you if you don’t mind.” 

“Thank you,” Clarke thinks back to their argument in the barracks, to her hand against the back of the Alpha’s neck and then looks to Wells, “both of you, I appreciate it.” 

Wells smiles, grateful to be allowed into Clarke’s circle. “Yeah, of course.” 

She could’ve lost him too. Her heart hurts at the thought of never getting to see Wells. To losing the closes thing she’s ever had to a brother. She’s already lost her father and who knows if she’ll be able to save her mother. She embraces him gently, careful of his mending ribs and even though he’s startled he’s just as happy to wrap his arms around her. 

“Oh, awesome.” 

She pulls away and wonders if he can see how apologetic she is for her behaviour towards him. She’s been venomous and he’s just taken it all in stride. It still hurts and she can’t forget but she can learn to gradually forgive. She has to; all their times on this Earth may be limited. She puts her hand on his cheek and his grin grows. 

Bellamy is sorry to interrupt the moment but it needed to be addressed, “Clarke, what that ice woman said, about a Chase being open to applicants from those in the Coalition.” 

Clarke retracts her hand from Wells and crosses her arms to hide her fidgeting. “I’m not sure what she means but I think we won’t have to worry about that unless we are actually allowed into the Coalition.” 

“You mean you won’t have to worry until then right?” Wells is anxious over her safety. “Cause I don’t think anyone is in any foreseeable danger but you.” 

There’s no use discussing this when they know so little on what could or could not happen. She can see Bellamy and Wells coming up with contingencies for her but she doesn’t want the focus be on her when their entire civilization may be dying in the stars. “I have to sort some business but if you two can finish packing then I’ll meet with you guys at the barracks later.” 

“I could come along for back up.” Wells has his hands on her hips, afraid to let her go now that he’s slowly getting her back. 

“It’s good,” Bellamy pats Well’s back, “she needs us at the barracks so we’ll go.” It’s not like they have much to pack, it’s clear what Clarke needs is some privacy. 

Clarke gives a thankful nod towards Bellamy and he smirks, taking his second in command status quite seriously. He knows he needs to be reliable for not only his sister but for the leader to his people. He’ll reinforce what Clarke wants. 

“Yeah, alright, I guess we can always ask the Grounders at the barracks to train us some.” Wells shrugs, walking side by side with Bellamy; you go a long way when you both find yourself defending the same person. “It’s not like we’re that helpful.” 

“Speak for yourself.” Bellamy responds by shoving his hand against Well’s shoulder, making the other boy stumble and laugh, pushing back at the Alpha in play. 

Clarke grins, shaking her head at the two. Jaha’s son wasn’t an outcast among the outcasts, at least not to Bellamy it seems. 

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

None of the Desert people appear to have made it out alive and those that did not enter the chambers for the meeting are in a dispute with the Trikru guards. Lexa is in the midst of stating what has occurred and when the Desert clan start pointing accusingly at Clarke, Lexa explains the alliance in effect, her words concise and firm. 

Clarke wants to approach but Luna steps into the way; she’s part of the forest then sudden before Clarke. The wolf’s fur is as brown as the woman’s hair but tinted by sheen of red, the sun drawing out the vibrant highlights with each step she takes. Her underbelly is lighter than the rest of her body and the colour recedes back into tanned skin as the woman shifts into bipedal form. She speaks to several wolves that shift with her and with a nod they quicken to their tasks. The woman accepts a loose black robe from one of her own people before turning her attention to Clarke. 

It shouldn’t come as a surprise that the Grounders are a fit bunch. Their bodies are honed, muscular and battle scarred. They aren’t lanky and barely nourished like any of the Arker’s she’s ever met. The nutritional paste is the bare minimal a person is required ingest to survive. Clarke wonders how much has been lost on Earth and how much her own people on the Ark have given up to last this long. The Arkers forfeited their wolves, their physical strength but clung to technology that they all thought would save them. Made laws with the strictest of punishments until only those that fell in line would remain and yet her father had spoken out and so has she. 

She might be intimidated but she’ll adapt. 

“You spoke of being an asset against the Maunon, what can you show me to confirm this fact.” Luna’s eyes are piercing but aloof.

Clarke has nothing at the moment; she’ll have to talk to Lexa or Anya to gain some perspective on this whole thing. “I’ll have my people survey the Maunon’s land and investigate them before I can have a solid report.” 

Luna is skeptical and she doesn’t hide it. “Even if you have nothing against them and only said so to stall Ontari I won’t rescind my support of the alliance but know that it is a time of war and Heda has brought unity to the nations to fight against one common enemy, if it was not for this fact then your allowance in these lands would not been so easily gained, the other clans will want your people to prove their worth for acceptance into the Coalition.” 

“If it is technology that the Maunon have then perhaps my people will know how to deal with it.” Clarke will have to consider attempts at entering the Coalition another time, her first priority has to be alerting the Ark. 

There are countless lives at stake and if the Ark can safely return to Earth it’ll also be a source of lost knowledge, science and medical care. If she does not accept Lexa and Anya’s chase then her people can supply other means at peace. Clarke has come to understand that the Coalition means much more than an alliance and she doesn’t want to leave her people to chance where the protection of the alliance wanes. “My people will try, Heda has offered us mercy for the Lerna slain and offered aid, we aren’t so quick to forget a debt.” 

“You were made aware,” Luna tilts her head in consideration, “of the mercies given?”

“A law was broken; I understand that a price in blood is set for transgressors.” It’s not something Clarke can easily admit, the lingering ire over the circumstances curdles in her stomach. 

There’s still a part of her that is angry with Lexa and Anya for hiding the massacre that could have happen but she’s trying to see the situation from their perspective, from how things are handled on the ground.

Adapt.

She has to adapt. 

She can’t just shout and fight against the mechanisms already in place. She had been too vocal on the Ark and it had only gotten her caught along with her father. Perhaps if she had been less violent in her outbursts she would’ve shared the oxygen malfunctions with the Ark in secret and saved those who are slowly suffering from oxygen deprivation. 

Would she and the 100 been sent as Guinea pigs all the same? Would she have their blood on her hands? Perhaps she would never have met Lexa or Anya, her lifetime was meant to remain in space. The possibilities boggle her imagination. She can’t regret how everything panned out; she can only focus on the present and try to err on the side of caution. 

“You’re quick on speech and thought but I’ve seen you lack in physical prowess.” Luna seems appeased with Clarke’s statement. “Your pause in the chambers has given Alexandria’s care away.” 

Clarke clenches her hands until her she hears her knuckles pop. Her worry over being used to cast doubt towards Lexa makes her overlook Luna’s casual reference to who most call Heda. “She has given my people aid; perhaps she trusts us to bring our abilities to use against the Maunon and doesn’t want to waste her investment.” 

Luna raises her brow, hands on her hips with her lips pressed so tightly together that Clarke thinks the frown is permanent. 

“Leave her be.” Anya comes to stand beside Clarke, dressed in most of her armor though her clothing is a tattered mess. Anya’s pants are torn and so is the shirt she’s shrugged back on. 

Anya snarls down at Luna and the woman reacts in the same fashion. The Grounder units around them give wide berth to the pair. They both bear down at each other until their growls are vicious and their faces contort into half shifts. Their mouths full of sharp fangs and their eyes turning feral. 

“I think it was just a misunderstanding.” Clarke looks to the Grounder man that had followed her from the stairs but he’s stoically keeping his eyes away from the scene. Great, knock Wells down without trying but don’t have the balls to deal with a Unit Leader and the Chief of another Clan. 

Of course. 

Clarke is desperate not to cause more issues for her Beta, she has her hand up and is readying to shove herself between the warring leaders when Luna breaks out in a laugh, her jaws opening wide, her partly shifted vocal cords making it sound like a bark. “Look at this little one, trying to placate me from your wrath.” 

Clarke is confounded, weren’t they going to fight. Like the confrontation Quint had wanted to start with Anya earlier in the day? Her raised hand drop uselessly to her side in befuddlement. 

“Oh, this is just too cruel, look at your Omega fretting for your wellbeing.” Luna flexes her arms. “She must know too well that I could end your fight.” 

“Take that back.” Anya’s face is returning to human shape, her eyes sparkling with humour as she grabs Luna’s arm in warriors shake. “I know someone who can take you easily and I’m the one that trained her.” 

“Enough.” Lexa comes forward; having delegated and managed the Trikru’s most pressing issues for the moment. “If you wish to act like children then go do so away from our people.” 

Lexa’s words may be cold but she had just called the leader of the Boat’s Clan a child. Clarke is praying to heaven and hell that it meant they were all just teasing one another and she just had a small heart attack for no reason. 

“Come little star,” Luna offers Clarke her arm, “I won’t have you think that all our people on the ground are as tightly wound as your suitors.” 

Clarke looks to Lexa and Anya but they appear to be watching her reaction on the matter instead of giving any input. She hesitantly takes Luna’s arm which seems to be the correct since it brings the group back towards the house. 

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

“You should have seen your face, little star, what exactly did you think you could do between us?” Luna is busying around what seems to be a pantry, returning with some kind of fruit and a jar of spices. “You should already know you can’t possibly wrangle us apart.” 

Clarke casts her eyes over to Anya who has a fist politely in front of her lips, she’s trying to look stern but Clarke can tell that trying was the key word. Clarke bites her lip, what exactly was she trying to accomplish? She had just felt the need to help, she had been unable to offer much to her father once and she swore to never let that happen again. She’ll never want to be that helpless and useless. Though Anya of course wouldn’t benefit much from whatever she was about to attempt. 

Clarke crosses her arms, a little thrown by Luna’s causal familiarity. “I wasn’t going to stand by.” 

Lexa suddenly moves close to Anya, lips an inch from her Beta’s. Clarke feels her breath stall at the open display. Anya has a light but very present blush when Lexa retrieves a thin blade hidden in her gauntlets. 

Lexa makes eye contact with Luna as she catches the food thrown at her and starts dividing the furry round fruit into slices without much more preamble. “Clarke has a habit of throwing herself into danger even when promising to stay away from it as I’ve learnt this when Anya met her in the Lerna caves instead of after the mission as I had intended.” 

“And you have a way of always using my weapons to prepare food instead of dirtying your own.” Anya bemoans, dropping into the cushion next to Clarke when she understands she’s been had. 

Clarke has never seen them act so… Their age... Just a pair of barely adults teasing one another. It was a shock to see but it endears them to her all the more. Clarke understands that this was them in private, that they have had years to be familiar with one another’s quirks. 

They are warm, not just formal to a Chieftain who already has a blueprint to the house. There’s a friendship there that Clarke wants to understand and she feels privilege to see the leaders be so at ease. 

“I will clean them after.” Lexa gives Clarke a smirk. “When Anya was training me as her second I had already heard her to be rather… let’s say dedicated towards weapon maintenance.”

“They were already clean.” Anya was almost pouting and it has Clarke releasing a giggle. After spending time with Anya’s wolf form, Clarke could almost imagine the tawny wolf drooping her ears in dramatic grief. 

Anya tilts to focus on Clarke then narrows her eyes at the Alpha. “If you tell it like that she’ll take your side on the matter.” 

“What,” Clarke shakes her hand, nope, “I’m not taking sides in any of this.” 

Lexa uncovers the jar, pouring out fine grains of spice onto the dish. Dipping a corner of the pale fruit into the powdered spice and offering it to her Beta. Anya vindictively snaps her mouth around the fruit but only lightly nips Lexa’s fingers. 

Lexa smiles, the tender expression making her green eyes shine. She wipes her thumb over Anya’s lips, collecting the juices that had stained an amusing frown. She keeps her hand against Anya’s cheek; tip of her thumb on pouting lips. “Hodnes, apologies, there are no sides I would take that has me against you.” 

“You two are just a whole other state.” Luna grabs one of the fruits, repeats the process Lexa did and pops the treat in her mouth. She turns to Clarke. “Alexandria was always this nauseatingly charming.” 

“I only speak truths.” Lexa is leaning back on her arm, angled close to a blushing Anya. 

Anya moves from Lexa’s touch and covers her face with her hands, peeking through to glower at Luna momentarily before landing on Clarke. “Lexa’s tongue is honeyed.”

The three of them are obviously well acquainted but they easily include Clarke. She’s flattered, this moment feels like home.

“I can see that.” Clarke says, bolding taking Anya’s hands into hers to reveal the woman’s face. Anya is blushing through her war paint and all the way to her ears. It’s just so endearing to find someone like Anya actually flustered. She can guess why Lexa likes to rile Anya up; to get such a reaction was just too… 

“Klark Kom Skaikru, be careful of the words you want to say to me.” Anya is scowling which has Clarke grinning along with Luna and Lexa. 

“I’m just appreciating this moment.” Clarke laces their fingers together, preventing Anya from taking her hand back; she feels her own face heat up when she says the next sentence. “You’re a pretty sight.” 

Anya looks to her companions and dramatically sighs. “If we are allowed our Chase I will be subjecting myself to this type of nonsense from the both of you, aren’t I?”

“You’re enjoying it,” Luna remarks, smirking around her fruit, “don’t deny it, or else Lexa would’ve stopped ages ago and this one, this Clarke of yours seems to have you figured out also.” 

The relaxed mood is interrupted by a sequence of bangs on the door and with Lexa’s permission, Clarke’s Grounder guard comes into view. “A scout has alerted us of Ontari’s demise, she attempted a jump over the waterfalls but several arrows had thrown her off course and into the rapids, they are searching for her body now.” 

Clarke witnesses the stern emotionless mask fall over both Anya and Lexa’s face when the man had entered. They both stand when receiving the news. Lexa with her hands behind her back and her head tilted back, effortlessly exuding power over the huge soldiers that come further. Anya is much the same, more passive in her demeanor next to her Alpha but menacing all the same as more people from other tribes enter in, speaking fluently in another language. 

Luna is still grinning through she hides it in respect of the Alpha and Beta’s ways. The Boat Clan Chieftain knows the pair and understands why they present themselves in such unbreakable unfaltering stead. Her own people don’t judge her base on her demeanor but by her skill on the untameable seas. She has the luxury of defending her capabilities outside of just being the stern material made for war and battle. She shares as much when she leans over to Clarke, whispering translations and explaining her own stance on the matter. 

When the last messenger has left Luna stands to go to but not before snatching the plate still full of fruit. The others try to ask for her to stay but she declines. She knows she has interrupted her friends in the midst of an important event and she has her own people to tend to. They are leaders and they are allotted less down time than anyone else. 

“Thank you for letting me into your leader’s lodgings, I’m sure my own would be stocked but you two always have the best supplies.” Luna holds up her plate as prize. “I will see you all during evening’s meal, mind the hours until then, we can’t have three late.” 

Clarke blushes at Luna’s insinuations and wink. She wants to explain that she may be heading back to her own camp soon and the three of them hardly have the time to just… She’s too late to deny anything since Luna is gone, several of the Boat Clan guards immediately dogging her steps. The Grounder guard who has knocked gives a deep nod to Lexa then pulls the lodging’s door close. 

Clarke wants to ask about the rules of the Chase of the Coalition. She wants to enquire after Lexa’s emotion after Costia had been brought up. Of the dynamic between the three of them but she can’t. She has never felt as drawn to Lexa and Anya as she has any other being. She wants to know them intimately, wants to hear them share their lives and she hers but she couldn’t do it. She can’t indulge herself when lives weigh on her actions and time is an evaporating substance. 

“We have to talk about the guard you gave me.” Clarke knows not to outright speak against having a sentry when they were in public but she’ll have to travel to back to the dropship and her own people will have questions. She needs their support and acceptance of her leadership without any coercion on her part. She can’t win because she has the manpower to force allegiance. 

“It’s non-discussable.” “Do you wish for more?” 

Lexa and Anya look at one another then with a nod from Anya, Lexa picks up. “If you wish I can ask for several volunteers for your picking but no matter what you will have guards, I will not shift on this.” 

“I can accept that but they can only escort me back to my pack’s camp, I can’t have them stay with me.” Clarke knows she’s still injured and unable to fend for herself too well. Not to mention she has already made enemies. She’s not so prideful to fight for independence just for the sake of it. 

The pair look to one another again, Anya tilts her head in question and Lexa nods. 

“Will you let me stay with you,” Anya reaches out, fingers lightly landing on Clarke’s elbow in query, “would you allow that?”

Clarke wants nothing more than both of them staying with her. She’s tampers her greed. “Would your people not think it’s weird that you’re leaving with me?” 

Anya shakes her head no, “they will not question us guarding an alliance that may supply means to the end of the Maunon.” 

“It’s precious information and I don’t trust many to protect it.” Lexa explains her voice a whisper over the word precious, her eyes casting back to make sure none are too close to the hut’s window. 

Clarke blushes, dropping her gaze; she takes a moment to center herself before looking up. “Then let me actually help, tell me everything on this Maunon.” 

Anya looks conflicted, a soft growl escaping her as the hand she has on Clarke’s elbow tightens just a touch, obviously not liking the idea of Clarke exposed to any kind of risk. 

Lexa on the other hand has had one teaching drilled into her, to follow her head and not her heart. She knows she has to be pragmatic, to utilize every advantage. “In this tongue the term would be translated to ‘Mountain Men’, there’s not much we know within their compound but I’ll tell you everything and provide land maps for your people.”


	11. So it Starts

There are a total of ten Grounders accompanying them back. Most have already shifted into wolf form, preferring their own legs than that of their horses. Their paws have better traction over the soft sands on the path around the lake leading to the Dropship. Other guards of the village are helping strap on leather saddle bags to each of the Grounders heading out. The packs are made of toughen leather, streamlined against each wolf, obviously custom made to fit them perfectly. 

Wells and Bellamy are standing awkwardly around the pack of wolves so much larger than their own shifts. They aren’t able to take the trip in their wolf shapes. They are still locked in their bipedal forms until the next foreseeable full moon. 

“They’ll be staying on all fours so they’ll only have emergency rations and weapons,” Lexa explains as she leads over a palomino, “they’ll be with you till you return to your camp.” 

“Then only Anya will remain.” Clarke seen several horses hitched around the barracks but had been too weary to near them. They had seemed so intimidatingly huge. 

Anya sidles up to her, in her wolf as well. She nods, wagging her tail and bumping into Clarke’s side, encouraging her to meet the horse Lexa has brought. 

“You do not have to fear Espera, she’s the mother of mine and Anya’s horses.” Lexa offers out her hand to Clarke to take. “She’s surefooted and hard to spook, she’ll provide a safe ride to your camp.” 

Clarke grasps onto Lexa’s hand, her hold tightening when the horse’s ears pitch forward to focus on her, the large eyes pivoting down to take her in. With a gentle tug from Lexa, Clarke comes forward, letting the pale horse bend closer to her. 

“Greet her.” Lexa brings up her free hand, stroking against the broad neck of the creature, she lifts up their join hands but let’s go when Clarke’s hand hovers just over the mare’s nose.

Clarke’s hand is trembling, she keeps her fingers open, letting the horse nudge forward. “Its mouth is so soft!”

“She’s a good mare and well cared for.” Lexa turns her attention to Wells and Bellamy, the subtle gentle quality she had towards Clarke immediately subsiding to a stricter tone. She gives Wells a nod then turns her sharp eyes onto Bellamy. The other alpha ducks back, tilting his gaze onto the ground. “Why are you not in your wolves?”

The boys look up to Clarke, giving her the say in whether or not to giving away their inability to shift. They had instinctively hidden it during their trek to TonDC. Their injuries made their human forms much easier to carry or aid on the journey here. Though now they have no excuse not to be in their wolf forms. When shifting is treated as normal and not the aberration the Ark saw to subdue, they had presumed not to give away their lacking on this front. They are already smaller than the Grounder wolves, no reason to give them more doubt in letting them join the alliance. Their delay in answer only makes Lexa’s expression turn suspicious which has Bellamy and Wells standing ramrods straight and inching closer together for support. 

Clarke takes a step towards Lexa, bringing her right next to the Alpha. Lexa lets her near, leaning in when Clarke goes to speak in hushed tones. “We can’t access our wolf forms without the moon.” 

“The moon aids and guides but the shift has already been given to us.” Lexa turns to the boys, coldly assessing them. “If they allow it I can pull their wolves out though it’s not my place to do so.” 

“You can do that?” Bellamy asks, excited at the thought of being able to have his other form, to feel strong enough. 

Lexa tilts her head at his speaking out and he quiets. “If you two and Clarke permit it, I am able to.” 

Bellamy nods and enthusiastically elbows Wells who turns to Clarke for confirmation. 

“If you don’t mind?” Clarke is unsure but rather interested to see more of what the Ark has taken form them. 

Lexa comes towards Wells first, who after receiving another sanction from Clarke shrugs out of his jacket and pulls off his shirt. Lexa lifts her hand to lie upon his neck. He’s a whole lot taller than her but with her touch he crouches down until he has bent one knee. 

His hands are on the zipper of his pants when Lexa’s grip wrenches his head back to look into her eyes. “Ai laik heda Leksa kom Trigedakru, Mafta ai op yu Elpha.” 

Wells stiffens, freezing as his mouth opens in silent pain, his hands fall to his side as he crumples forward and lands face down on the ground. Lexa backs away and before Clarke can bend to help him he slaps one of his clenched hands forward. His nails are already sharpening and turning pearled white, fur stretching his skin in patches and tearing through in others. He’s gasping and shaking, his transition jagged and uneven in the areas that do shift and others remain distinctly human. 

“Do not fight it.” Lexa voices an order but it incites a snarl from Wells. It actually brings a smile onto her lips. She gives Clarke a look then pointedly down at Wells. “You’ll have to tell him.”

“Hey c’mon just relax, it’ll be over soon ,” Clarke crouches down, hand hovering over Wells elongating spine, the bone is coming through first, tearing through the skin and patches of fur, her voice shakes a little, “please.” 

Lexa reaches over, fingers light over the back of Clarke’s hand, she guides and where Clarke makes contact with Wells’ skin it bursts through with thick dark fur. The spread is much quicker now, the change in form going in tandem over his curled back. He’s snapping and ferocious once he gets to his legs.

“Wells!” Clarke calls after him; worried he’ll dart into camp and hurt others or himself. 

He settles mid step away, when he turns his eyes are taming. He’s whining and complacent by the time he paces towards Clarke and Lexa. 

Lexa repeats the action with Bellamy who is much more reluctant after seeing the amount of pain Wells had to endure. Bellamy falls to the same fate, twitching in agony and even though he knows not to fight it he can’t do anything but resist against the unusual electric sensation. It wasn’t like what the moon had unlocked, they are being summoned by Lexa and he’s demanded to answer.

When Clarke makes to ease Bellamy’s transition as she had Wells, Lexa’s draws her back. Bellamy was already free of his shackling defences, letting the sway of Lexa’s command wash over him and bringing his body into wolf form reborn. He parades towards Wells, proud of himself for being able to take this shape without help from Clarke. 

Anya snarls, making the boys stiffen. She exchanges a worried look with Lexa, both of them uneasy. 

While Wells brings himself steward next to Clarke. Bellamy takes turns setting his tail up and straightening his forelegs then looking away from Anya and Lexa. Clarke grabs the non-shredded ear and after a chastising tug he tries to imitate Wells’ much more relax stance. Both Alpha and Beta don’t compare in size to even the smallest of the Grounder guards around them. Her boys are by far the largest in her 100 but they look scrappy next to the military like war hounds. 

Bellamy growls at the horse which has Espera stamping her hoof once, making the male Alpha back. She’s been around werewolves for decades, she’s not so easily frightened and obviously not to such a small pup. Clarke brings her hand up to cover her laugh at Bellamy’s chagrin. He droops his ears and snaps his teeth at Wells, releasing his annoyance into the other wolf’s fur; Wells easily side steps the bite, angling close to the large horse and sniffing at the never before seen animal. The horse let’s all this go on, staying still until Wells has finished his inspection and rounds back to Clarke. 

“May I help you up?” Lexa is right beside Clarke; her proximity has the shorter girl heating up. 

Clarke nods, putting her hand up on the horn of the saddle as instructed and putting her foot in the stirrup. 

“She’ll hold still, don’t worry.” Lexa puts her hands on Clarke’s hips, lifting the other girl up effortlessly up but keeping the contact only long enough for Clarke to settle. The guards are all politely keeping their eyes on the citizens around them instead of their leader at the center. 

Clarke bites her lip; Lexa had practically swaggered away after her impressive show of strength. She knows exactly what she’s doing and that almost smug smile is what keeps Clarke from jumping off the horse for a repeat performance. Anya paces to the other side of Espera, her head coming easily pass the horse’s shoulder. Anya looks up to Clarke, reassuringly close, both suitors placing themselves on either sides just in case of a fall. 

Clarke lets her hand reach down for Anya, stroking her fingers through the Beta’s fur before taking the reins in her hand. “I suppose this is goodbye for now, just until I can settle my people and figure out the Mountain men… I know the Ark can help us but I have to help them first.” 

Lexa dips her head in agreement. 

Lexa has her hands held behind her back and her face inclining up to Clarke. She’s a picture of stoic control. The Heda sees off Anya and their Omega with barely any visible concern. Though Anya seems to know Lexa’s hidden emotions only too well, she steps back to Lexa’s side and ducks to nudge her head against the Alpha’s thigh. It’s only a moment and Lexa’s hand settles quickly into the scruff of fur on Anya’s neck.

“Return.” Back to me. Lexa commands as she grips at the fur in her palm, her eyes downcast before patting her hand down once more and returning into the village without another word. 

Anya gives out a bark which brings the guards immediately to heel. They form a perimeter around Clarke, with who she thinks should be Aerius at the point of the group. They wait for movement and it’s not until Clarke pulls her eyes away from Lexa’s disappearing form does she realize they are moving around her, she has to start the march. 

She gives Espera a slight nudge and the horse complies. Going at a walk till they make it out of the village gates and then working into a smart trot. Clarke lets her horse pretty much just carry her since it seems intent on showing her the ropes. Anya’s side is brushing up against her leg every so often, shifting the mare’s movements when needed. Even when they make it into in the tight foliage outside of the road to TonDC they keep up their pace. 

Clarke has to tilt back when they go down an incline that has her worrying about her balance but her steed is steady; almost like it was taking extra effort to give its rider a safe trip. Bellamy and Wells had no trouble keeping up with the group while going along the trail but once they reached the rockier slopes and rooted soils they have to deliberate their steps. Their heads are kept down and focus to the obstacles on the ground instead of streaming over the terrain like the Grounders. 

They haven’t run into Octavia’s group yet but their people’s scents cling to the foliage they pass. Octavia is leading their people by following Lincolns trail, the healers and help sent had traveled through a longer route, safer by far than their steep decline. While Clarke trusts that Octavia won’t get lost she questions how sound of an idea it was to let her group leave the village unattended. Though she couldn’t have guessed the outcome of the meeting, it could’ve meant a risking all those inside TonDC since a massacre once hung over all their heads. 

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Ai laik heda Leksa kom Trigedakru, Mafta ai op yu Elpha =I am commander Lexa of the Tree People, follow me, your Alpha.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………


	12. Along the Shores

Anya is guardedly by her side and Espera, though an older mare, seemed quite at capable of handling their journey. They had taken a short break just at mid sun, wanting to avoid the overhead burn by remaining in the forest’s shade. Though by how the sun is starting to dip into the waters of the shore, that rest period must have happened hours ago. 

She’s distinctly starting to feel the grim, the sweat from the ride having cooled against her back. Her thighs and ass are starting to ache though she can only guess how Bellamy and Wells are holding up. 

The Grounder wolves are like a well-oiled machine, their breathing in-sync as they keep formation through every terrain. Her own wolves are gasping but still going, against the bigger more efficiently moving Grounders her two wolves are straggling. While they are mainly unable to sweat in their lupine form, the bridge of their nose was drenched along with the pads of their paws, this had caused Wells and Bellamy to slip and slide into the damp forest foliage which made their furs get matted down by more moisture. They are just starting to dry thanks to the lake cooled breeze; its stubborn determination that keeps them going instead of stamina. 

It’s another while until they are skirting the edges of the Lerna’s cave. There hasn’t been any rain the last several days so the silt and sand of the lake shore are still covered in rusted maroon. The blood of their people’s and the Lerna’s mixing into an unappetizing scent. 

They couldn’t rest here; even though Clarke knows their dead have been carried back to camp she can’t envision staying long enough to make a stall worth it. A putrid stench pervades from the cave itself. She moves the group along faster. She can’t bear to turn her gaze into the pit, knowing somewhere at the bottom of the chasm lies Finn’s broken body. 

When she ushers Espera to a faster gait and the whole pack moves willingly with her, even Wells and Bellamy quicken with a burst of speed. 

She can still feel the dead’s presence linger on her skin. 

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………… 

The moon shines clear down on them as they get closer and closer to camp. There’s not a cloud in the amethyst night domed above them and the light from the moon paints long inky shadows from their feet. Their shapes elongated into larger images of themselves, the shadows all lapping together to form a greater beast clearing along the lake’s circumference. 

Anya starts out a drawn out howl as they near the dropship. The rest of the guards join in and soon their calls are answered by pitching cries. Several large wolves come sprinting out of the confines of the drop ship, they are Grounder in size and they come charging into Clarke’s group. 

There’s a lot of ferocious sounding growling as the Grounders who were sent to the dropship greeted their fellows. They bump and nudge into each other in a wild enough manners to cause Bellamy and Wells to back up closer to Clarke. They are alert and not sure if the display is friendly. 

After a moment, Anya steps away from Clarke’s side, her presence making the other wolves settle and lay down. Anya sniffs noses with a big light brown wolf, half of his face remarkably darker and similar in markings as Nyko’s tattoos. 

The Grounder wolf shakes his shoulders, his shaggy fur fading back into his skin as his bones cracks. He’s groaning as his body elongated back into human form and he stands in the moonlight buck naked. Clarke pointedly looks into the sky while Wells and Bell stare up at her. 

Anya is next to shift, two humans among a pack of insanely large wolves. They speak in Trigedasleng and Clarke is left staring at Anya’s back, there’s a sequence of tattoos cascading down to book case around the woman’s spine. Its design is reminiscent to the marks Lexa has on her arm. 

Just like the marks on Lexa’s skin, Clarke wants to trace her finger along the ones on Anya’s back. 

It’s like Anya senses these thoughts and glances over her shoulder at Clarke. They lock eyes and Clarke gulps, her uninjured hand death clasping at the horn of her saddle. Anya’s expression is impossible to read until she’s casting her eyes down at the also staring Bellamy and Wells, she bares her fangs at them and has both of them dropping down. Clarke glances at her boys to realize they had been gaping at the Beta leader just as much as her. If they weren’t so small compared to the Grounder wolves and low to the ground she would’ve swung a hand at their heads. 

There’s a pause in conversation which signals the entire set of Grounder wolves to stand. They all move one after another, Aerius at the front. He comes to Anya’s side, grazing his furry shoulder against her hip before leading the group off. They move as a single silent unit into the trees. The trained precision of their entrance into the forestry and the speed which they took off makes Clarke realize they’ve been traveling in a rather lax manner all day. 

Only Nyko, Clarke, Wells and Bellamy remain. They watch as Anya grabs Nyko’s arm above the wrist, they shake once then Nyko is throwing himself into wolf skin, taking to the forest after his people. 

Anya turns towards Clarke and while the boys have been pushed to submissively stare at the ground, Clarke only has her own self-control letting her remain eye contact with the Beta. “Didn’t they have things left in the camp?”

“Your people will keep the supplies.” Anya is right next to Espera, watching up from her usual spot beside the Omega. “Can I help you down?”

“Oh… I think I can manage?” Clarke tightens her clammy grip on the leather of the horn, starts to swing one of her legs over but she bumps her still healing arm along a saddle bag which makes her hiss in pain and start tilting back. “Fuc-”

Anya’s arms are around her in an instant and Clarke finds her back against the Beta’s just as before when she had fallen asleep on the shores to the Lerna caves. “Ooomf.”

Clarke stumbles out of Anya’s arms, gushing out a mumbled thank you and backing into Espera’s belly. The horse shuffles from her movements which make the boys scuttle away from stamping hooves. The boys growl at the sudden commotion and pace further away from Clarke. She tells them to return to the dropship and Bellamy is quick to pad away from Anya though he seems to be limping slightly in one of his front paws. Wells whines but nods his big head, taking several steps towards camp and then coming back to her before finally stepping away with his head and tail down.

Clarke knows damn well that Anya is very naked, practically perfect in the moonlight and an arm’s length away from her. Her legs are shaking from the fatigue of the ride but the rest of her is trembling for a whole other reason. She resolutely keeps her head turn towards the drop ship. They should move. She should move. She feels Anya approaching and holds in her breath. 

She’s shaking when Anya reaches to her shoulder. “Ummm, I’m…”

Anya leans back, having grabbed a cloak from the saddle bag behind Clarke; she wraps it around herself and secures a clasp over her shoulder. “Are you ready to go to your camp?” 

Clarke sighs, finding her face hot as she looks at her companion. Anya is patient and seems completely obvious of what she had just done. Anya had practically been stark naked and pressing into Clarke and yet the woman is confused at why Clarke is so worked up. 

She’s never felt this flustered in her entire life and now in a span of a couple of days both Lexa and Anya have made her a hormonal mess. She was always quite proud of herself never acting like a sex crazed teenager the Ark labeled all out omegas to be. She had control; she had stayed off the Ark’s watch lists. 

Anya takes a breath and her eyes widen. “Oh.” 

“Yeah, oh.” Clarke is not equipped for this, managing her pack she will do on her feet but the whole chase and suitors has her on edge. “I’m just not use to,” she grinds out the rest of her sentence, “I’m not used to having such a urge,” she rubs her palm against her leg, nervous, “I think it’s cause the suppressants injected into the air on the Ark have been wearing off and sometimes, I’m not saying always since it fluctuates but it has been very difficult to focus around you or Lexa and it’s just making me kind of anxious.” 

“I wasn’t attentive enough.” Anya backs further. “I should have been but I thought you were …would be fine with me close...” 

Anya’s voice is still controlled but Clarke can detect a distressed note in the words. She can understand that she’s giving mixed signals. She had clung onto Anya’s wolf form and yet freezes when Anya nears now. 

“I am fine with you close.” If anything she craves for them both. “I’m...” Clarke wants a lifetime to explain herself but each second she wastes on herself is another the Ark loses, she’s never felt so weary in her life. “I’m not sure we have time to discuss this.” 

Anya is solemn when she minutely nods several times; almost reassuring herself that it was okay. She’s resigned as she takes Espera’s reins, leading the mare slowly towards camp. Having been Lexa’s mate for this long she knows that leaders don’t have the luxury of time and her place as the Heda’s Beta has always been second to their people’s needs. It doesn’t surprise her to see it be the same with Clarke. 

Anya is just so disheartened that Clarke wants to balm the upset immediately. 

Clarke can’t stand having been the cause of it. She takes Anya’s hand into her own, tugs for the Beta to stop. Clarke is trembling hard when the other woman turns to look at her. She tries to still her quickening heartbeat as she leans into Anya’s shoulder. Anya straight away wraps her arm around Clarke’s waist, tugging the shorter girl secure into her hold. They breathe together; the contact permits a tension to unwind in them both. 

“I don’t want to seem like I’m just stringing you two along, you’ve both been nothing but supportive but I just don’t… It seems insane to ask for time when I had been so ready to answer Lexa’s Chase the first time I met her and I don’t want you to think that my reluctance has anything to do with you.” 

Anya grunts, the hand wrapped around Clarke’s middle pulls her even closer. 

“You’re important…” To me. “You’re important and I want to figure things out not just because my wolf wants you two but because I do too.” 

Anya hums, letting Clarke continue.

“And I do,” Clarke tilts away, trying to gauge Anya’s reaction; “I really do like you.” 

Clarke blushes, tucking back against Anya, sighing happily when she feels a hand run up and down along her back. She feels like she’s ten, not yet burden by her Omega status and just confessed to a boy she had liked in grade school. He had run away and she had shrugged it off. It’s all fine and dandy then but she’s a grown ass women and she’s just told Anya that she likes-likes her. She’s terrible inept at this, she’s so used to locking everything away, to keeping fine control her own impulses and to never show any type of interest least she got onto trouble. The Ark’s list of potential issue was always growing, micromanaging through the populace to weed out any potential threat. 

Anya brings a hand up to clasps onto the back of Clarke’s neck, angling the girl away so she could press her lips against the top of Clarke’s head. She holds the touch there for a second before pulling away and taking Espera’s reins back into her hand, the other still laced with Clarke’s. 

“Let’s return you to your pack.”


	13. Submission

It’s Monroe that runs up to Clarke first; she has her arms out and prepping for a jump but she stops a self-conscious step away when she notices how closely a Grounder stands beside their own, it has her keeping decorum. “Glad you’re back, I was about to set out with our own rescue party.” 

“Thanks for worrying about me.” Clarke opens her arms and Zoe practically falls into the Omega’s embrace. “I really appreciate it.” 

Monroe uneasily backs off when more and more of their people realize who had come back to base. Anya steps aside and allows the Arker’s rambunctious greeting to commence. Clarke had asked for her to be a background support. She respects that Clarke wishes to gain allegiance from her own people by her own prowess so Anya resigns stay as a spectator for now. 

One after another they come forward to hug Clarke. Many of them owed their and their mate’s lives to her. Atom had filled in everyone who had remained in the dropship on Clarke’s plan against the Lerna and what had happened afterwards. To how the Grounders had taken in those severely wounded on the beach and of the aid sent to the dropship. 

They are all in good spirits if a bit bruised and on the mend. There has been little work done on the surrounding area near the dropship. Most choosing to sequester within thick metal walls and care to the wounded they have instead of venturing for materials. The defenses raised are a minimalistic palisade; stocks of wood sharpened as a loose perimeter and done by the Grounders’ practiced hand instead of novice Arkers’. 

There’s a bonfire near the side of the ship, close enough to heat up the metal to ward against the night’s cold. The fire highlights the beaming faces of her pack and licks into the confines of the dropship. There’s a gleam of polished steel that draws Clarke’s attention. It’s a pillar of bracelets, stacked one on top of another in the very center of the hold. After a scan of the shrine she counts more bracelets than their dead toll. She stares at the delinquents’ wrists, finding far too many without the Ark’s tech on their bodies. 

“What have you done?” She grabs Sterling’s wrists making his expression sour. “Where’s your wrist band?!”

He doesn’t yank away from Clarke’s grip, still deferring to the person that had fixed his arm. His head droops and his glance casts onto Murphy, who’s leaning against the drop ship’s doorframe and has one leg crossed over his ankle. 

He’s smirking when he flippantly displays his bare wrist to Clarke with a wave. 

“What did you do?” Clarke’s words are ice as she moves pass the crowd, they concede to her as she streams straight towards Murphy. 

“Hey, hey princess, calm down.” He’s still grinning but it’s marred by the wound from the Lerna, it had closed up to pinking scar jagged and slicing into his hairline. He has his palms open and up in a shrug as Clarke storms towards him. 

Sterling sulks forward and takes to Murphy’s side. Jones, Atom and Nathan also come from inside the dropship to place next to Murphy. Murphy looks to his left and right, noting Bellamy’s wolves coming to support him since he was the one that brought Bell’s most recent decree from TonDC. The remaining 100 start splitting, some are going into the ship behind Murphy while others crowd just behind Clarke. Monroe takes to Clarke’s left while Anya stands vigilant at Clarke’s right. 

“The shrine is erected to remember those that died, you can appreciate that right?” Murphy is on the door’s edge, looking down the incline at Clarke, he’s basking in the backup of Bellamy’s wolves and that’s when his smile turns vicious. “Though we didn’t get all of them, not Finn’s wristband but you,” Murphy shoves his cruelness against Clarke’s patience, punctuation after each word. “Already. Knew. That.” 

Clarke doesn’t let him see the hurt he’s inflicted. He’s taken aback by her silent rage and wilts just a smidge under her disdainful glare. The others shirk from Clarke’s displeasure. She’s disappointed that pieces of their limited tech have been mangled into some macabre shrine. Pieces melted down to form a base for all the lives already taken. She’s quaking with anger, frustration seeping from her at the lack of foresight in her people’s actions. 

Her scent is sharp. Painful to those closes to her. Her displeasure sets off a growl in several. 

“Hadn’t the boys that died cold and alone in the dropship been enough of a wakeup call? How can you all not be aware of how responsible we are for the actions we take?” She’s turning slowly, addressing every Arker. “Hadn’t you all even stopped to think why we would have the wrist bands in the first place?”

“So they wanted to monitor us, I say why help them when they threw us down here to die!” Murphy throws his hands up; physically tugging away from Clarke’s ire. “You’re privileged, how could you understand the shit the rest of us have had to deal with, how can you expect us to help the killers of our fathers and mothers.” 

“They sent us down here because there’s a malfunction to the oxygen recycling systems, they’ve taken your father but how many of us have family still on the Ark, family who are now suffering from oxygen deprivation?” Many in the crowd straighten from their ready stance; looking to one another to see similar expressions of worry. “There’s a limited supply and we were sent down to let them know if Earth is habitable.”

“They don’t matter.” Murphy takes a menacing step forward but she holds firm. She won’t back down from whatever insanity he intends to drive their people into. 

“My mother does.” Dax speaks out, he’s stationed behind Murphy but shoulders pass the others, making his way to Clarke’s side. 

One by one the people inch down towards Clarke; the mention of their parents bringing them cowed and contrite away from Murphy. 

Murphy glares at the people leaving him, snarling at each that dare to switch sides. Those wounded from within the ship are woken by the commotion and after gleaning a conflict about to brew between Murphy and Clarke they all leave the confines of the ship for a space next to Clarke. 

When Miles comes out last with an arm around Roma’s waist, Monroe is quick to rush over to help. Murphy takes one glance and his hand twitches but before he can snatch at those escaping his control, Clarke is ascending the ramp of the ship to stand level to him and a barrier defending those leaving. 

“Stand down Murphy, whatever this nonsense is, it ends now.” 

Murphy casts his eyes out on the Arkers that left him; he can’t find Bellamy so his vindictiveness over the turning tides has no supporters. 

“Fuck you,” he spits at metal beneath their feet, “would have thought a law abiding privilege would have respect for our dead but not for our lowly lives right? Not for my father, not for me and not for anyone of you idiots,” he points out at the people with a sneer, “she’s fooled into her cause.” 

He’s starting to appear as an animal corner, any action looking better than being torn from his place. Anything cornered will bite and Clarke’s instincts have her stiffening. There’s a ferocious snarl as Wells comes bounding before her as guard, the thick fur along his neck and back stand on end. He growls at Murphy, startling him onto his ass with a yelp. Then just as Wells had come from the shadows so does Bellamy, he’s hiding his limp well and stations himself protectively before Murphy’s prone form. Wells is confused at his companion and looks to Clarke before hardening his resolve, his fangs revealing as he barks. Bellamy returns in kind, feral and pitted against the wolf he had ran with. He’s making some in the crowd answer, his Alpha pull drawing on their obedience again. 

They’ve fallen under his call once and could again. 

The crowd is separating, some forgetting Clarke’s words and inching towards Bellamy. There’s barely enough room for the two humans and wolves on the incline to the ship, there certainly isn’t enough for the Arkers trying to near their leaders. 

Bellamy is unrelenting in his stance and so is Wells. The two at odds once again and the tension in the air draws the other Arkers closer and closer. The people are drawn in but instinctively flow around Anya who is rigid, kept in place by her promise to be silent support to Clarke. No one dares touch the Grounder in their midst, all able to feel her malcontent in waves. 

Clarke places her hand on Wells’ scruff, calming her friend before walking to stand before Bellamy. The entire collective ceases their breaths in fretful anticipation. Watching the Omega approach the Alpha they’ve been called to follow once before. 

“We have to act as leaders, you and I.” 

Bellamy’s eyes are clouded but his ferocious growls wilt under Clarke’s words. He was feral when he had seen Murphy fall; there’s something inherent in him that makes him a protector. Guilt moves him along with instinct; it was him that issued the destruction of the bands. He had instigated this and it shouldn’t be Murphy that shoulders the blame. 

“Wells was only against Murphy coming at me, we never intended to hurt him, and I understand that he thought that this was in some way a remembrance of the dead.” Clarke reaches out a steady hand on puts it on the back of Bellamy’s neck; his ears flatten against his head and his gaze turns askew to the ground. “Stand down.”

There’s no pause when Bellamy lies on his stomach, heaving a sigh as he drops his head to his paws. Those that had moved from the crowd to answer their Alpha also bend down. Eyes casts respectfully away from Clarke as Bellamy had done. 

There’s a shifting of power and while Murphy is looking bewildered at the turn of events Clarke can feel each of Bellamy’s wolves tether to her and those already on her side becoming more attuned. She can’t dance around the responsibility any longer. 

“I do respect the dead,” her voice shakes at the memory of Finn, “and I feel for every one of you.” 

The Arkers are attentively listening. 

“If you want to respect the dead then do so by living and showing the Ark our life, they are going to run out of air soon and if they don’t think it’s safe on Earth then everything will be lost. There was tech to be scavenged and metal to be repurposed and while it’s been wasted we’ve learnt from this, we won’t be careless anymore but we can pay tribute to those that died, honour their sacrifice by thriving as a pack and keeping them in our memories as we continue protecting our own.”

Clarke can feel their very essence heeding to her, sense the attentiveness at the core of their beings. There’s a tangibility forming in the air, the unfamiliar quality that gives them their second forms is not only pulsing in their veins. There’s the energy of the moon that bides them and the life that glows within them manifesting in the clearing. She can touch the bands that emit from each shapeshifter, can entice the individual cords to weave through the group and back into her. 

They are answering her and she’s willing to shoulder their burdens and take reign. “I know I’ll give anything to protect each and every one of you, none of you are expendable to me.” 

Those that hadn’t kneeled before do so now.

Clarke accepts their submission.

She’s leading her Arkers.


	14. Cohesion

Murphy is uneasy of his place so he crowds into Bellamy’s side. He had submitted as everyone else did to Clarke but he still averts from her path when she nears. He had followed Bellamy before but he’s being pulled by her now. He has no intention of giving up Bellamy’s part in the destruction of the bracelets, not after how the fellow Arker had stood before Wells for him. His loyalty is torn between Clarke and Bellamy but after sensing his reluctance Clarke doesn’t push.

 

She doesn’t have time to cater to his wounded pride and as long as Bellamy has control of him, she’s fine with Murphy’s blurred allegiance.

 

Clarke focuses on the others, sorts them back from the walkway into the ship so she could check each individual and tend to their rapidly healing wounds. She instructs her pack to conduct themselves as usual, only asking for a guard routine to be scheduled and volunteers to bring up a real defence. Most turn to Bellamy for his orders on security but he struggles for his human form. Its Wells that shifts back, he’s spent from the run here but eager to help. He brings the people up to date of everything that had happened. Wells delegates tasks leaders as he had seen done on the Ark and in TonDC, each group answering up to him or Bellamy though Bellamy was a silent figure for the time being. Bellamy stands with Wells though, unrelenting in his actions of protecting Murphy but also showing his peace with Wells’ authority.  

 

The people calm and take to their appointed tasks; there’s a feeling of harmony in the group, liveliness and a reassuring solidarity throughout the camp.  It was already late in the evening when Clarke and the others had return and most of the Arkers were tucking in for the night but they were willing to forego early rest to follow Clarke’s new leadership.

 

Those taking nightwatch armed themselves with wooden spears while others worked to haul scrap metal and fallen timber into forming a hodgepodge circumference of a wall. It doesn’t fully shield the camp but it’ll do as a start.

 

Clarke takes a pause by Anya but feels the entire pack attuning to her actions. She wants to be selfish and take a moment but her people need her. The Ark needs her. Everything rests on her and needs her action but all she needs is Lexa and Anya. She’s so frustrated and spent a whine escapes her, soft but clearly showing how upset she was.

 

“A leader must always tend to their duties.” Anya voices, understanding to a fault.

 

The camp is watching, curious of what might happen between their leader and the Grounder they found within the Lerna caves.

 

Clarke sighs and the spell is broken. The camp moves when she calls for Monty and with one last regretful look towards Anya, she seclude to the upper deck of the ship with Monty; discussing well into the night on potential methods to communicate with the Ark.

 

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………....

 

When Clarke finally exits the ship she’s glad for the fresh air and barely present dawn. There’s guards posted at the perimeter of their land. Others work near the fire to sharpen metal into tools. Murphy has people grinding the broken pieces of their ship into fine edges, his eyes are nervous to find Clarke’s approval. Nathan and Jones help to wrap the blunted ends in the coverings of ripped seats.

 

There’s cohesion in the group like never before.

 

Clarke looks around but doesn’t see Anya present. She’s disappointed as she approaches the bonfire. She finds Roma leaning against a felled log, tending to the flames. Monroe is near her whittling the tip of a wooden pole into a sharp point.

 

She’s quick to smile and welcome Clarke. “Thought you and Monty were gonna just keep talking till night came back around.”

 

“Monty was nodding off and taking real long blinks,” Clarke jokingly mimes Monty’s valiant efforts at staying awake, “and then pretty much passed out before I could finish asking if he needed to sleep.”

 

Monroe laughs and Roma grins, enjoying her partner’s pleasure and Clarke’s presence. “Perhaps you should join him for a rest.”

 

“I’ve been out for so long that I’m too tired to sleep.” Clarke rubs at the material bound over her healing arm. “You ever get like that?”

 

Monroe frowns, dutifully running through her memory for such a time.

 

“It feels like we’ve been sleeping the whole time on the Ark,” Roma places her hand on Monroe’s bouncing knee, “does that make sense?”

 

“Yeah, it’s like a whole other part of us was just put down in the Ark and now it’s getting to live.” Monroe nods, making an effort to stop jittering.

 

It all seems crazy that they had to crash land and almost die to have a real start at life. To becoming who they really are. Clarke is frazzled, but her mind is still buzzing around their situation. Her attention is called back to the moment when Roma nuzzles into Monroe’s neck and causes the shorter girl to blush redder than the flames when her eyes connect with Clarke’s.

 

Clarke is happy that those two had found each other but yearning spikes overbearingly strong in her heart. She’s missing Lexa something awful and is unreasonably irked that she couldn’t find Anya.  


“You’re pouting.” Wells has sidled next to her at some point and apparently set on giving her grief.

 

“Am not.” Clarke tries to be dignified, sitting up straight from her slouch.

 

“You should go to sleep.”

 

“Can’t.”

 

“I recall someone who once stayed up all night to win a bet and ended up hanging onto the wall for dear life.”

 

“Oh don’t bring that up again.” Clarke drops her face into her hands.

 

“Then she woke us all up with her tears since she ran out of energy to function.”

 

“Oh my god.” Clarke slams the elbow of her good arm into Well’s ribs, all too aware of their audience. “I was like four and I won that bet.”

 

Roma is too polite to tease like Octavia would’ve and Monroe is trying her hardest not to laugh at the image.

 

His jubilant expression turns muted by a sight over Clarke’s shoulder. “Anya’s been scouting the outskirts of camp all night; I think she’s worried about you.”

 

Clarke turns her head so quickly she’s almost certain she gave herself whiplash. Anya is a shade among the tree trunks but she’s made her presence known. She’s clad in something more than the cloak from earlier but her armor is still considerably lighter.

 

Clarke nearly jumps up from her spot but the sudden movement and lack of sleep has her dizzy. Her muscles are cramped and achy from the ride. She feels unwieldy even as Wells steadies a hand onto her back and after judging Clarke’s behaviour one more time, nudges her towards Anya with a grin. “Go get your girl.”

 

Clarke glares at Wells and then looks to the others around the bonfire only to find Roma and Monroe moving the pile of sharpened poles to those prepping their walls. “They don’t know.”

 

Wells gives her a rather dubious look; he’s clearly not buying it. “Clarke they’ll know soon and they’ll support you on this too.”

 

“It’s not that easy.” There’s the Chase and the whole ordeal with the council and there’s never time for anything else and-

 

“Okay.” Wells quirks his lip in a grin, acceptance and support in bounds.

 

She’s so grateful she hugs him and he gladly returns the affection.

 

“Now go, she’s looking so pissed she’ll get the others freaking out.”

 

Clarke turns to see that Anya was glowering no more than usual and still restraining herself to the boarder of the forest. Clarke gives Wells’ arm a squeeze and heads determinedly towards the Beta.

 

Anya stays still at her spot and lets Clarke come to her. She has her hands behind her back and she’s about as straight as the trunk she’s standing next to.  While she’s physically retrained the warmth is clear in her voice. “Clarke.”

 

“I’m sorry,” it just gushes out of Clarke, “it took all night to go over everything with Monty and then to start gathering the materials he’ll need, I shouldn’t have just left you hanging but it couldn’t wait, the moment he wakes up he’s going to be working on a communication device,” she takes a breath but with Anya’s silence she just keeps going, “was everyone respectful towards you? Did they do something to cause you to leave camp?”

 

“I left camp to patrol.” Anya was quick to settle Clarke’s worry.

 

“Everything is good?”

 

Anya nods.

 

There’s a respectable distance between them and the silence is rather tense.

 

Anya takes in how jittery and nervous Clarke seemed to be and makes up her mind to share more. She’s not like Lexa and well no one is quite like her Alpha, she doesn’t know if she can ever be that diplomatic or casually conversational but she tries. “I didn’t want my presence to make your people uneasy or intrude with what you wanted to accomplish.”

 

“Well it’s done, it’s good.” Clarke explains, feeling self-conscious, she knows she doesn’t need to tell Anya anything since the Beta had witness her taking charge of her pack. “You don’t have to leave camp for me.”

 

Anya tilts her head, gazes towards where Clarke had come from. Clarke turns and sees Wells still watchful and a bit too hopeful, he gives her two thumbs up and she’s quick to move and block Anya’s view of his gesturing’s.

 

Anya frowns, Clarke was hiding their interactions. Did Clarke want the Arkers to stay oblivious of their intent for the Chase?

 

“You are still considering Bellamy?” Anya’s tone comes off as neutral but slow.

 

“I never considered Bellamy in the first place.” Clarke denies and reaches out for Anya, her fingertips just barely against the other woman’s hip.

 

Anya looks at where Clarke has touched. “I’m not rushing a decision.”

 

“I know, I know you wouldn’t rush me.” Clarke rubs her thumb just over the rise of Anya’s bone. “It’s just… it’s a lot of responsibility to acknowledge yours and Lexa’s Chase…” Clarke tries to catch Anya’s gaze and gauge her reaction. “I can’t right now, not with everything that is happening on the Ark and with us needing to produce something useful against the Mountain Men, I’m not in this just for the convenience, I don’t just see it as some trade.”

 

Anya puts her hand over Clarke’s. Wishes she could explain Lexa and hers intent. Could properly tell Clarke how sacred a Chase is and how much it means to their society. She would’ve thought the words should come easy to her since it’s something every pup knows but she’s a warrior through and through, not a story weaver.

 

If Lexa could’ve escorted Clarke then Anya wouldn’t be stuck mute before an expectant listener.

 

“Lexa will explain when we meet with her next.” Anya can see Clarke’s controlled disappointment.

 

Clarke can feel how stiff Anya is under her hand. It takes a moment of being worried that she’s crowding Anya before insight hits her.

 

Anya is unsure how to get Clarke to understand.

 

It’s suddenly reassuring to see Anya struggle through making this thing between them work. That it’s not only Clarke in the deep end with no idea where she’s at or what she should do. The Alpha and Beta might be in the know but they’ll still have to communicate it to her, bring her into their fold. They seem to want that.

 

“May I ask questions about the Chase?”

 

Anya snaps her head up, startled and pleased with such a solution.

 

Clarke takes Anya’s anticipatory silence as a welcome to her query. She decides to start with vague, easy questions. “How long has the Chase been occurring?”

 

Anya tilts her head, confused; there’s never been a time when the Chase was not important. “Since the start.”

 

“Are there a lot of rules?”

 

“They vary among Clans but it is sacred for the Southern tribes.” Anya looks at Clarke for another question but it seems she’ll have to expand. “The contamination made things far more brutal but productive survival became more important than just capture for all this past century.”

 

“All?”

 

“The Northern tribes are stubborn in approach towards fertile females but Lexa brings that to finality with her reign.”

 

There’s a whole history here for Clarke to know but she’ll have to take it upon herself to learn it another time. There’s something pressing she worries about, the safety of her people, acceptance and their livelihood. She’s in charge of them without dispute now, their lives are hers to protect. “If, I’m only saying _if,_ for some reason I refuse yours and Lexa’s Chase, what does this mean for my pack?”

 

“Your pack will be expected to produce information against the Mountain Men.” Anya is unsure what more Clarke could be asking after, there are no repercussions for refusing their request for her hand.

 

“So no more or less is expected out of my pack than any other group, there’s no punishment or blood price as the death of the Lendra had placed on us?”

 

“Of course not!” Anya growls, disturbed to have Clarke have such a belief.

 

Anya’s sudden agitation has Clarke snapping her hand back, holding it against her jumpstarted heart. Clarke isn’t afraid; she knows neither Anya nor Lexa would be the one to physically harm her but… Anya is furious.  

 

“I didn’t mean to be rude-”

 

Anya holds up a hand, pausing Clarke in her apology, already she’s stepping back. Could this have been what Clarke had thought the whole time? Anya feels no better than Ontari. She doesn’t know how to handle the mayhem of emotions that threaten her composure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking around guys, I've finished part one of the trilogy so apart from something catastrophic happening the updates will be coming on the regular again. Everything is going to be ramping up soon so there's a lot more character development of the Arkers and their dynamics as they prep for taking on the mountain.


	15. More Than Before

The moment ticks between them. Anya stays still and uncommunicative.

Clarke’s first response is to initiate touch but her want to respect the other woman’s space keeps her rooted. The forest feels ominous and claustrophobic with Anya’s presence a cold statue. Her mind is too muddled by the discourse between them to also deal with the annoying feeling of suffocation when she feels all but abandoned within the forest. 

She’s used to the endless expanse of space, not the obscuring foliage of the forest. 

Clarke turns and makes a quick break back towards the campfire. Wells is still waiting for her, but his hope turns to concern when he sees the mood she’s in. She drops like a sack of laundry next to him and dejectedly sighs. Without a word he offers her a ration pack which she gratefully nibbles on. 

“Heh, women can’t live with them and can’t live without them right.” 

Clarke looks up to find Octavia smirking down at her. “O!” 

“Way to check up on us, oh fearless leader.” Octavia teases as Clarke wraps her up in a hug. 

“When did your group get back?” 

“A while ago but the rest of them might have brought Wells’ story about you needing rest but I happen to remember Anya’s scent, she’s here isn’t she?” 

Clarke stares at Octavia then Wells. Wells offers a shrug then shuffles off to help Bellamy who is still stuck in wolf form but attempting to help pull taunt a rope along the outer wall.

“Don’t be so glum, once you get some you won’t be such a sad puss.” 

“Octavia!” 

Octavia wiggles her eyebrows and tilts her head in the direction of Lincoln who must notice being mentioned and stops what he’s doing to solemnly nod. 

Clarke returns the gesture in kind but is shaken out the end of it when Octavia jostles into her. “Don’t you get all formal with him, he’s one of us.” 

“Yeah?” Clarke regards Octavia, notices the fresh mating bite on the expanse of her neck and shoulder. “I see, congrats, I’m happy to see at least one of us is doing well on that front.” 

“Uh huh, you’re pretty hapless aren’t you?” Octavia shrugs good-naturedly when Clarke shoves out of their loose hug.

“Shut up, O.” 

“He’s one of us though right?” Octavia lets the bravado go, her tone respectful as she dips her head in deference. “You’re good with that?”

Octavia, the girl under the floor boards who has not let anything detain her since she has gained her freedom has come to Clarke requesting permission. 

Clarke automatically reaches out to place a hand on the back of Octavia’s nape; she caresses lightly at the skin till the bowed women casts her eyes up through her bangs. 

“He’s one of us.”

Octavia sighs in relief and straightens. “We are with you too, the group you sent ahead, we felt the shift when we returned to camp and Wells explained everything else, we wanted you to know that we’ll follow your lead.” 

Clarke feels moisture gather at the corner of her eyes at the sincerity of Octavia’s declaration. The younger woman gives Clarke’s shoulder a squeeze before heading over to a waiting group of Arkers. Every one of those that travelled ahead came fourth now. They look at Clarke then each other, unsure of what exactly to do to pledge their allegiance. 

Clarke tries to help, tries to find the tangible threads she had felt in her hand the night before. They are all willing, she can feel that to be true, she reaches for their loyalties and when she pulls they naturally drop knee. The group casts their eyes downward and Clarke feels her heart swell when they join in with the rest of her pack. 

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Clarke calls Charlotte over before she can depart with the others. The girl is in much better state but her eyes are darting and she has a disquieting nervousness about her. Charlotte stayed when Clarke called but she’s distant and her gaze falls onto where Bellamy and Wells are attempting to erect yet another segment of the wall. 

“Charlotte?” 

The girl startles and turns her drained eyes up to look at Clarke. “Is everything alright, I hope you’re healing well?” 

Charlotte shrugs; she picks at one of her many bandages. 

Clarke can see the bags under the kid’s eyes, the hallowed out quality of Charlotte’s waning focus. “Have you been sleeping alright?” 

The girl shrugs again; she’s staring at the ground, barely present in the waking world. 

“You should try to get some rest, you were in very bad shape when-” Clarke stops, not saying the monster’s name when she sees Charlotte start to tremble. “Hey, hey it’s okay.” 

Charlotte closes her eyes and shakes her head and doesn’t stop until Clarke takes her into her arms. “Shhhhh, let’s get you inside, some rest will help.” 

“They said you weren’t sleeping.” Charlotte piques up, no one else was following rules before why did she have to. 

“You’re right.” Clarke straightens once she feels Charlotte calm, staying eye level but close. 

The girl is surprised, she had spoken back at their leader and she had expected some kind of punishment. Being a child didn’t save her from getting locked up, from getting sent down with that monster. Her eyes dart to Wells and then back to Clarke. “I-I am?”

“Yes,” Clarke offers out her hand and smiles when Charlotte takes it tightly, “we both could do with some sleep.” 

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

“You’re very good with her.” Monty notes, turning away from his mess of wires and MacGyvered pile of tech. 

“I guess.” 

“You’re very good with calming all of us.” He says again, waving his hand around the quiet upstairs of their ship.

The upper layer had been prepped for their still wounded, many of them piled on top of one another even though there were enough ripped up cushions for everyone staying on the makeshift medical ward to have their own space. 

She slowly pulls away from Charlotte, tucking the rough blanket around the girl and stroking her hair till she stopped moving in search of Clarke’s warmth. 

“I just picked up on how my mother worked with patients.”

“Nah,” Monty shakes his head, “Dr. Griffin comes at it like an Alpha, I can feel her wanting me to submit to whatever comfort she’s offering, and it’s not the same.” 

“I guess.” The thought of her mother makes her think of her father and she’s not ever ready to dwell on that, not now. “How’s the communication array coming?” 

Monty rolls his eyes. “It’s not any kind of array, I can’t manage anything that sophisticated with what we’ve got left, not without risking a small explosion,” his grin is somewhat anticipatory at the thought of an blast, “but I’ve started a simple Morse code cycle through the communication systems linking up, so somewhere in the ARK HUB there should be a repetitive beeping to let them know we are well.” 

“Whoa, Monty that’s genius.” 

“Well, I mean…” Monty smirks self-consciously. “Or some unfortunate citizens are having their alarms go off indeterminately.” 

“That can happen?” 

“Yeah, the speakers in each of our units are linked with the main hub so if I’m patching into something that I shouldn’t be then the message might find the wrong outlet.”

“So the lights upstairs will also be blinking out a S.O.S.?”

Monty snorts. “Pffft, of course not, I’m going for audio not… oh my god I should have gone for both, I might not have the right components but maybe if- hey is it cool if I just- I got to-” he gesture at the slump of wires suddenly excited as he yanks off another panel from the wall, several of the room’s occupants mumble complaints but he’s already focused on work. 

Clarke gives him a supportive pat before descending the ladder and heading back into the dimming sunlight. 

She almost trips on Bellamy who has excitedly bounded up to her the moment she’s on the incline of the ship. “Whoa, what’s up?” 

“He’s been moping because he’s still in his wolf form so I asked Anya-” Wells starts. 

“You spoke to her?” Clarke questions a little too excitedly but manages to gather some of her dignity to refrain from asking if Anya mentioned her.

“Yeah, she suggested that because Bellamy shifted under another wolf’s call, it could be why he’s still stuck but if he had his chosen leader help then maybe he would change back.” 

“You want me to what? Call him back to bipedal form like Lexa did?” Clarke stares at her boys and at Bellamy’s increasingly waggy tail. 

A crowd is starting to form, not quite coming away from their chores but pausing mid motion to watch. Anya is in the midst of it all, she’s not particularly out in the open but Clarke zeroes in on her Beta all the same. 

Anya gives a slight nod, encouraging Clarke to try. 

With a determine breath Clarke kneels down before Bellamy, putting her hand on the scruff of his neck. She tries to mimic the command that Lexa had in her tone when she calls for Bellamy to shift back.

It’s a bated pause but nothing happens. The people aren’t disappointed since they don’t really understand what they were to expect. None of them had been there for when Lexa shifted Bellamy, and Wells had been subtle in his talk with Anya. 

Clarke must have shown her disappointment since Bellamy takes her hand lightly in his maw, his tail wagging while he whines thankfully, still appreciative of her efforts. 

She’s really trying and doesn’t know what else she could do, there are no books for her to read, no memory to really call back on. She wraps her good arm around Bellamy’s neck and wishes for him to know how much she’s trying for all of them. 

How much she’s willing to do if she could just lead their pack right. But she knows notions are empty without action and she feels useless and frustrated, always that kid watching their parent be ripped into space while offering nothing. 

“Hey,” his voice is a growl, vocal chords in disuse, “you’re strangling me there, chief.” 

The Arkers whoop and cheer loudly, all coming forward now to pat Bellamy’s back or touch Clarke for just a moment. It’s Wells that takes off his shirt and offers it to Bellamy and Clarke does well to pretend not to notice Bellamy staring at the other man’s chiseled abs. 

Bellamy blushes hard and instead of putting on the shirt he holds it against his stomach, letting the material drape down. “I’m going to go,” he gestures a thumb into the ship then turns to the rest of them with a snarl, “get back to work!” 

The people laugh and give him space while Wells raises an eyebrow and gives Clarke a ‘can you believe this guy’ look before heading back with the others. 

Clarke makes it through everyone else to stand in front of Anya, the Grounder seems relieved. “Hey, I’m sorry about how I came about earlier I wasn’t trying to be insensitive.” 

Anya’s expression suddenly turns feral as she strikes as lighting pass Clarke, tackling into whoever has just returned from the forest. Jasper is barely aware of what’s happening when they both crash onto the ground. Anya keeps a knee on his sternum as he struggles to regain his lost breath, his eyes wide and his goggles cracked on the dirt. 

Everyone is too stunned to move but when some do come forward Clarke places herself between the Arkers and Anya, baring her teeth at them even as she puts a hand on Anya’s shoulder to yank the warrior from the startled boy. 

“Anya, stop!” 

Anya shrugs off Clarke’s hand but backs from Jasper, placing herself between the spluttering Arker and Clarke. Anya is livid, rage coming off her in great pulses, the Arkers anxiously watch Clarke who is just as confused. 

Clarke moves around Anya about to go down and help soothe Jasper enough to catch his breath when the scent slams into her. 

She sees an oily black liquid crusted deep under Jasper’s nails, smudged into the cuffs of his jacket and on the soles of his boots. 

Clarke doesn’t know if she has Octavia’s gift for scents but she can’t ever forget this one. It’s excruciating to be thrusted back into her memories. Clarke gasps and stumbles back into Anya, seeking support. The Beta uses her body as a shield as she secures an arm around Clarke’s waist, her palm over Clarke’s spasming diaphragm. 

“Breathe, Clarke.” 

Clarke can’t, all she can take in is Ontari’s sharp and menacing scent.


	16. Chapter 16

Clarke’s distress brings everyone to high alert. The scuffle before may have confused them but they were all content to follow her decision to remain a distance away. Now though, with her emotions rising up without bonds and her scent in sky-high distress, it sparks them all into guard-stance for their leader.

 

Everyone stalls in their tasks, dropping everything to come to her defense.

 

Wells is by far the closes and it’s him that reaches the prone Japer first.

 

The sudden stall within the compound draws Bellamy from the dropship. His pants barely buttoned and Well’s shirt askew on his thinner frame. Just as he exits from the dropship he sees Wells purposely make his way towards Jasper. The Beta scoops Jasper up by the lapels of his shirt, dangling the boy to the point where the tips of his boots barely touch the ground.

 

“Where is she?!” Wells’ face is convulsing with a shift, his words barely discernable as his teeth grinds through his gums, elongating ferociously.  

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Jasper claws at the fist at his chest but he can’t manage to move away and the people around are none too accommodating to his plight.

 

Clarke struggles to contain her breathing, the slaughter in the meeting room all too vivid. Its Ontari’s scent that holds her down and has her locked in fear as she watches once again. Caught in the memory of her Alpha and Beta fight for their lives while she’s still and protected in a corner.

 

She’s frozen stiff, her anxiety spiking through the pack. Her scent is cloyingly decisive in its draw as it increases, so does their want for bloodshed. They’ve stopped their previous chores and by instinct are called to protect and guard, but Bellamy intervenes.  
  
His words are frustrated growls, the effects of Clarke’s emotions overpowering and placed forefront to anything else. He snaps at the others to back up but he also applies his sharp talons deep into Jasper’s shoulders. “Where the fuck is she hiding?”

 

The Arkers are in complete unrest, calm temperaments turned foul by the overpowering call to arms. Jasper has brought the danger and thusly must be dealt with.

  
Anya can read the bloodthirst in the Arkers and tries once again to calm her Omega. She has a hand around Clarke’s neck, thumb stroking just under Clarke’s jaw. She’s murmuring something soft against the chaos of the moment but Clarke is too caught up to cease her scent call.

 

Anya gently tilts Clarke’s neck so she can press her lips against the skin. “Clarke.”

 

Anya’s words fall unnoticed and she knows she has no other choice. She applies her teeth into the space between Clarke’s shoulder and nape. It’s a hard bite, skin barely kept from tearing but the action settles Clarke until the memory clear. She’s no longer in the meeting room miles away but in the forest once again. To her bewilderment she finds her pack about ready to tear apart the sobbing Jasper.

 

“What’s happening?” Clarke stands free of Anya, placing her hand onto Wells’ fist. “What has gotten into all of you?”

 

Her voice cuts through the fog of her scent demanding their freely given allegiance. The crowd shift focus to sense her, her calm eases them back from their attack. Their immense displeasure originated from Clarke’s distress but as it subsided they are left confused, caught in a whirl of emotions and commands; it ramps up their own individual ire until agitation has them growling once again.

 

They are a pack circling the one that has injected the unease. They may not rip him apart for what he has inspired but he certainly deserves their punishment. Jasper’s scent is barely mingled with theirs. He’s been running wild throughout the outer reach of their encampment. After getting repeatedly rebuffed by mated Arkers he has gone from exuberant to bitter. He snapped at his few friends and even Monty had been chased off. He’s been missing intermittently for hours at a time and Monty has been too caught up with the communication system to be his keeper. No one had thought to look for him until he had stumbled back into camp smelling like blood.

 

Blood that had set Clarke off and in turn made them near feral onto another Arker.

 

The throttle of an engine draws their attention to the entrance of their camp. A scent as strong as death oozes into their grounds. It turns their taste foul and moments after a thunder of rabid canines storm through the palisades. The pack of hounds’ crash through the sharp wooden spears, some taking the stakes clean into their already torn flesh. The pain doesn’t seem to slow them as they circle the entire Arker pack in moments. They are a perimeter, their lumbering bodies a wall to prevent any stragglers from leaving.

 

Their sizes range larger than any of the Arker’s own wolf forms and their colouring wickedly decayed. They are gaunt in some places and muscled in others, each section of their form coming together not quite right. Their skeleton framework is too bulky, the skin pulled taunt over their ghastly shapes. With each laboured breath their translucent flesh looked ready to divest them of their own organs. Their entire being is uneven; clumps of fur and flesh barely cling to protruding yellow bones.

 

Their eyes are glassy white, nothing present in them to suggest consciousness.

 

As one they start closing in their circle, crunching in on the Arkers to pack them together tight. With each herding step they further crack their already bruised skin. The wounds may crust together quickly but before they can close bloody pus pours forth to taint the grounds.

 

“Tighten up!” Bellamy commands, his back against Wells as they face off these new invaders.

 

The Arkers all strive to come through to the epicenter of their group. To guard Clarke as death itself seemed to encroach upon their territory.

 

The Arkers’ action wakes the wraiths into motion. While they had appeared fearsome before they became menace incarnate. Legs were being snapped into two as the bloody hounds darted down to dismember further motion. 

 

Nothing slows them and Wells is quick to drop Jasper to take down the monstrous hound too close to Clarke. He can’t quite shift but his claws are out and Bellamy joins him swiftly.

 

Anya has drawn her weapons and was dispatching the dogs as quickly as they came. She keeps close to Clarke and angles the Omega away from any of the salivating jaws. Their own numbers may be greater but they’ve never fought opponents like this and they are rapidly losing ground.

 

A strangled yelp shocks Clarke out of any torpor she has left and shoots her into action. She’s shredded through her skin and cloth by the time she applies her jaws through the jugular of one hound about to rip into one of _her_ Arkers.

 

Her shift turns the other, her anger fuels theirs and the losing scuffle turns into a violent resurgence of an actual battle. The Arkers aren’t trained to deliver killing bites but they go as a group on instinct, swarming singular targets.

 

The engine’s cries have turned into a roar, announcing the hound’s reinforcement. Feral men in blood, fur and bone clear into the area. They are faster even than those on all fours and knock out the Arkers that attempt to fend them off. They take the fallen Arkers over their shoulders as prize but before too much damage is done Nyko and the others that had traveled with Clarke, and even those that were in the earlier party come out from all directions of the forest.

 

The tides have risen and crested and they certainly look in favour of the Arkers. A second wind hits Clarke’s wounded and they try to keep the attackers at bay with the new arrivals. Lexa’s people are skilled but they are busy protecting the untrained Arker’s and Clarke which prevents them from being fully able to take down the few invaders that leave with prizes into their vehicle.

 

Monroe’s screams of Roma’s name draws Clarke’s attention in an instant. She’s taking after the vehicle even as others yell for her to stop. She leaps into the back of the truck, embodiment of fury as she snaps and growls over her people’s limp bodies. She’s taking necks between her mouths and shaking until putrid blood seeps onto her tongue and her moonglow fur is dripping maroon.

 

The hounds haven’t left their territory and only the car revs away. The attackers are swiping at Clarke and she has little room to maneuver. She finds blades cutting through her fur and a blow against her temple almost drops her. Clarke is starting to feel woozy and her once healing forearm is throbbing with new pains but her bite doesn’t soften. Large wolves are slamming into the car, trying to slow it down since there isn’t enough room for another inside. The car is jostled until the tires loose traction on the mossy forest floor. The truck slams into a deep rooted tree and sends the entire caravan lurching before crashing down.

 

Anya and the other warriors are on the fallen enemy in an instant, ferocious and efficient.   
  
Clarke rolls several times until she’s limp against the mossy dirt. Her vision blurs but she sees Charlotte being grabbed into another vehicle and Wells’ just managing to catch her arm. Charlotte screeches, eyes wild as she shakes violently out of Wells’ grip.

 

Clarke hears Wells grunt in pain as his loss of contact has him careening off from the truck.

 

Everything is threatening to go black but there is pressure on Clarke’s scruff. She tries to shake it off, tries to snap and fight but the blood that drips onto her snout is Anya’s. She calms immediately, her body crunching back into human form, her blood matted fur receding away to show her own gushing wounds.

 

Anya is executing commands to her people, fetching the unconscious Arkers that were almost stolen. Anya moves to take Clarke into her arms but the Omega struggles, trying to make sure Roma and Wells are being taken care of. Her tumble has made her skin raw, her body is a mess of injuries but she doesn’t stop until she sees that everyone in the vehicle she jumped into has similarly made it out.

 

Her eyes are wild with pain and Anya’s motions to carry her only makes it worst. Clarke almost wishes she had blacked out but then how would she know that at least some of her people are well.

 

She’s not sure how she’s holding onto consciousness.

 

“Stop struggling.” Anya anxiety can’t be heard in her voice but felt in how carefully she cradles Clarke.

 

Clarke watches as the distance is fogged up by a billowing, heavy cloud. The fog smells of toxins, pus and guaranteed destruction, her nose burns even at this proximity. The painful scent shakes her further away from unconsciousness and she almost cries because of it.

 

Anya travels away from the overturned car and calls her own people to follow. The two groups move as one, following their Unit Leader who holds Clarke.They aren’t too far from camp but instead of cutting back through the tracks of the car and the oncoming fog, Anya leads them through a turn into a river. The water is ice cold against their heated skin as they cut across; the water deters the fog from disintegrating their bodies.

 

Once the Grounders deemed the distance acceptable they take to stabilizing life threatening wounds, a torch is lit and metal heated to sear the bites and weapon damages closed for the time being.

 

The Grounders are silent through the burning but the Arkers who aren’t lucky enough to be unconscious cry out. Clarke tries to soothe her people but her mind is blank with agony as Anya tends to the gashes along her stomach.

 

The fire heated dagger feels like it is eating through her and if Clarke didn’t know that Anya would never harm her she would’ve wonder if she was slew in half.

 

Clarke feels a hand on her cheek and a thumb just beneath her eyes. Anya sounds something close to being impressed, “You were silent during the mend.”

 

“Still dangerous, we have to be quiet.”

 

Clarke’s words are a mumble but those present enough to understand her are ashamed at their own outburst seeing how gravely injured their leader was and how stoically she managed through her pain.

 

Wells sweats through his burns silent as Clarke and then is half stumbling and half crawling as he determinedly kneels before his friend. “You’re going to make it.”

 

Clarke hums at Wells request; his tone is so firm it’s almost a demand.

 

“Don’t just jump into the fray like that you fucking maniac.”

 

Clarke smiles and truly feels the cut in her lip, it’s going to scar. She hisses but the pain was worth seeing Wells relax. Her head is lolling onto Anya’s lap, her eyes focusing on a metal wheel protruding from the ground not too far off. It’s fairly well hidden and if she weren’t on the floor she’ll have missed it.

 

Metal… Metal here? Her thoughts slip from her grasp as fish in water, one thought to many then gone and back into view, she needs to return to her metal ship. “We have to get back.”

 

“We should not move yet.” Anya states, hand gentle in their touch upon Clarke’s face.

 

Nyko looks up but covers his surprise well.

 

Clarke notices all the same.

 

Anya is trying to keep her from harm but her pack is going to be fretting and she can’t stand to be away from them. She attempts to push herself up but she’s shaking like a new born lamb and Wells is in too similar a state to do much more than stagger up with her. They must look pathetic before the Grounders who had done so much more yet were in better state.

 

There’s a sigh but then Anya’s tawny wolf form is lying down before Clarke. It takes some time and some much needed help but eventually Clarke is safely situated on top of the Beta.

 

The pace they make is modest since Anya takes extra precautions not to jostle her Omega.

 

Face pressed against the thick fur of her mate, Clarke takes deep breath and tries to ignore the stabbing pinch of her wounds, the scent makes her think of the shared dwellings Anya has with Lexa. Of softer moments with someone she’s just met but misses dearly. The fire warmed memory eases Clarke down from her adrenaline and the careful rhythm of their walk rocks her to an almost blissful rest. 

**Author's Note:**

> [Buy Me a Coffee?](https://ko-fi.com/A1464VTG)
> 
> Kamooi has kindly created a size comparison chart for the characters @ http://kamooi.deviantart.com/art/Size-Comparison-for-MinaMauveine-604111624
> 
> Swing by my tumblr if you want to cry with me over this group of delinquents. http://mina-mauveine.tumblr.com/
> 
> I want to sincerely thank Kamooi for Beta-ing at crazy hours and discussing plot lines with zeal that has driven this story's progress more than once. You're my most important support and I am fortunate to have you at my side.


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